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#it had to actually write the names on the first picture because for some reason my laptop won't let me type words on images??
I recently saw a post that said Mike from Ghosts is like the only human actor in a show with a Muppet cast. I have searched high and low for the original post and have not found it, but I thought it was funny and it prompted me to create this.
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[id: a picture with nine of the Muppets in a grid with the ghosts' names written on them. Animal is Robin, the grumpy eagle is the Captain, Miss Piggy is Kitty, Camilla the Chicken is Mary, Gonzo is Humphrey, Fozzie Bear is Pat, Waldorf is Julian, Statler in a dress is Fanny and Beaker is Thomas.]
Also Kermit is Alison
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[id: Kermit the frog]
and the plague ghosts are these rats from A Muppet Christmas Carol.
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[id: Kermit and a group of rats in Victorian costume wearing top hats.]
If anyone knows who the OP is please let me know, I don't want it to look like I stole their idea but I honest to god couldn't find them anywhere.
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leclsrc · 7 months
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wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1
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genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...
word count: 3.6k  
It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this
auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!
nsfw warnings under the cut!
18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie
It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day. 
To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.
The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—
“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.
His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”
“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.
You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes. 
“What about Max?”
Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”
“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.
“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”
“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”
The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.
Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.
His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.
OK, nice. Did u need something?
No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?
Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.
I thought we agreed no contact unless business
He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.
Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.
Yeah. Got a drink.
I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.
How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.
Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit
Yeah? I missed you today.
Really?
A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.
He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?
You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading. 
So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.
The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.
And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.
It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.
I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.
He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.
So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.
He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.
In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.
He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.
The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.
He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.
You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.
Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.
His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”
One week later
“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”
The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.
You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka. 
Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.
“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”
You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”
“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”
“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”
“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”
“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.
“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”
“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”
He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”
“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.
“Wanna test that out? Come play.”
Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.
“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.
“You got it wrong. Teaching.”
He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.
If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.
You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?
You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.
Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.
“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh. 
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.
You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—
“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.
“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.
“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.
“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.
“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.
“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward. 
“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.
“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.
“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”
“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.
“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.
It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed. 
He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.
“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”
“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.
“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control. 
“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”
“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time. 
“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”
His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.
“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.” 
Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.
“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.
“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.” 
You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.
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ohdeerfully · 3 months
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Can I please request Alastor and reader having a sleepover because of flooding in the hotel which made most rooms in the hotel out of service including Alastor's and Alastor chooses to stay at reader room because ✨romance✨ Oh and can I be ☀️ anon ( I'm the person who made first request.)
I love your writing so much!!!
hii again!!! thank you so much for the request ☀️! i love when anons give themselves names its actually so fun (,:
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A Dry Bed
Alastor x Reader (fluff) TW: none! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══
It’s nothing new when a violent demon shows up at the doorsteps to the Hazbin Hotel–Charlie’s idea wasn’t a popular one, except to a very niche market of demons. Many came just to cause havoc and make life harder for the already strained employees of the hotel.
This was new, though, you mused to yourself briefly as a fish-headed demon ripped open the door, the hinges squealing in protest. Bubbles of water floated around his body, strings of a magic aura keeping them attached to his form; there was a large one encasing his head like a helmet, making his already fish-eyed features more… well… fish-eyed and distorted.
Most demons weren’t manifested in hell bearing any sort of noticeable power other than sometimes having a decent “full” demon form. So, seeing this fish rearing a set of magical balls of water for attack, for no real reason in particular and with a glint of mania in his eyes, quickly put everybody to their feet and in action. 
Alastor was out doing god-knows-what, otherwise this would’ve been over in an instant. The other demons in the hotel were incredibly strong in their own right, but it was undeniable that the power imbalance was… huge. And the immediate chaos that ensued likely would’ve been prevented.
The fish barely hesitated after nearly breaking the front doors, immediately detaching his balls of water and hurling them in every direction. Bottles of booze were shattering, hanging pictures were tumbling, and wooden legs of furniture snapped. 
Of course, it was over nearly as soon as it started. With a movement so fast you could hardly watch, Vaggie had the fish pinned down, her foot pressed against his neck and spear pointed at one of his bulging eyes. Her eyes were narrowed so hard, her lips so twisted in a scowl, you could practically see the fire of her anger.
“Vaggie, hey, hey, hey,” Charlie quickly rattled out, pressing her hands against her girlfriend’s arm and gently ushering away the spear. Vaggie refused to release the demon, who was gurgling some nonsense in his bubble of a helmet. Charlie nudged at her leg that was pinning the demon down. “C’mon. No killing. You know the rules.”
“Charlie, this guy literally came in with intent to kill! Stop treating him like he wants to be in the hotel.” “I know! But… just…” Charlie thought for a moment.
The fish headed demon started thrashing around, but Vaggie’s strong leg kept him down. He was growing desperate, you could tell, and a magic aura seemed to flicker around him as he fought for his freedom.
Charlie opened her mouth again, likely to coerce Vaggie to let the guy go, but was interrupted by a loud, squealing groan from every direction. You frowned and leaned your ear against the wall, where it seemed the loudest. The sound of screaming pipes and popping bolts made you clench your jaw and whip your arms over your head, right in time for the walls to start bursting with dangerously high pressure water.
Vaggie turned a glare to Charlie and spread her arms in a “you see?” motion. She briefly raised her leg, only to slam it back down on the fish’s head. His protective bubble popped, and he was knocked out cold. 
Easily enough, the pressure immediately began to release after the culprit had been knocked out, but the pipes wouldn’t magically fix themselves. Charlie was running back and forth, trying desperately to survey the damage to her hotel. Footsteps came thudding down the stairs and a spindly pink demon came flying down.
“Hey, what the fuck is- fuck!” Angel Dust’s curse-filled rant was interrupted as he tripped head first into the steadily increasing pool of water, not expecting his foot to get dragged behind him by said water. With a moment of confused thrashing he stood back up and shook water from his now drenched hair.
“Guys, a little help?” Charlie snapped, unintentionally raising her voice at the three of you. “I don’t know what to do, but just-! Something!”
Niffty was quick to arrive after Angel, announcing herself with a shrill cry at the state of things. She immediately went to work, practically flying this way and that with a little hammer and nails. You wondered if she could just materialize that at will.
After finally ebbing the flow at the lobby, you looked at the stairs to the next floor. A steady stream of water made a shock of cold run down your neck.
“Guys…” You pointed at the base of the stairs and drew a line with your finger, following the trail of water.
Charlie choked out a short cry, and Niffty didn’t hesitate before barreling between your legs and up the steps.
“Oh! My,” A shocked voice called from the entrance. A prickling of static covered your skin, and tension immediately left your shoulders. With him here, this would go a lot faster. You turned your head to look at the Radio Demon, who was now delicately stepping through the layer of water that was now creeping out the open lobby doors.
“This seems like a dream of a little orphan from the Dirty Thirties, I do think,” Alastor joked, mouth ajar and eyes shut in a sinister laugh at his humor. His staticy ambience changed to a personal laugh track following his statement. His cane was held up carefully on his elbow as he surveyed the scene.
“No, this won’t do! Not at all, what a dreadful sight for new patrons,” As his hand rose and a crackling of loud static filled the room, you heard the noise of metal bending and snapping as he magically forced them back into place. Even with all the pipes fixed, the water remained. You guessed it was up to the rest of you to deal with that part.
“Thank you soooo much, Al,” Charlie had her hands clasped and shaking in front of her as she continued to spew thanks at him for the help. She stopped and looked around. There was still a huge mess. And there was still a lot of water.
The lot of you had spent the next few hours desperately trying to scoop, dump, scoop again, dump again, all the water out, but it seemed neverending. Husk had showed up at some point, went on a furious rant about his collection of now-smashed bottles, and had been cradling the remaining one ever since.
Charlie had given everybody a verbal pat on the back, and called it a night. “We can get back to it in the morning.” She said this, but you had a feeling she would remain up trying her best to fix the mess. Alastor had excused himself some time ago, saying something about his broadcasts and his papers. Since then, your thoughts have been filled with aggravation from his lack of aid. Yes, he had fixed the pipes, but the water. 
You gave a light smile to Charlie, half in thanks and half in apology, before heading up to your room. Your jaw was clenched with anticipation for what your room might look like. You could already visualize the damp curtains, the dripping bed, the mildewy air… And your clothes were surely ruined. You’d have to buy something to wear while you washed everything you owned. You sighed at the thought.
You took a breath before pushing the door open. And, when you looked inside, it was… completely dry.
“What the hell.” You deadpanned, eyes scanning the entire room. Surely there was at least a puddle of water somewhere. The water had affected every level, and although you did live on one of the higher floors you still couldn’t understand how your room managed to escape the flood.
You stepped inside and closed the door behind you, making quick work of your drenched clothes and changing into something dry. You fell face first into your pillows. Your eyes were so, so heavy.
A few seconds passed before a knock interrupted the sleep that had been creeping over your body. You heard the faint warbling of radio frequency, and felt both nervousness and anger at the thought of seeing Alastor.
You rolled off the bed and stomped your way over to the floor, flinging it open and glaring up at him. He simply smiled back down at you, his head tilted questioningly as if he had no clue why you were in such a mood.
His eyes broke from yours and he peered into your room. With a pleased glint in his eye, he brushed past you. You wanted to say something about his intrusion, but you knew it would be useless. So you just followed him in.
“Lucky you!” He said. “I took it upon myself to look into all the rooms, and yours is the only one that is still in such a shape.” You watched as he examined the contents of your room, grabbing up a decoration here and there to look it over before setting it back down.
He sighed, eyes closing as his wide smile closed into a meager grin. “Unsurprisingly that little bayou of mine flooded much worse than everywhere else. As much as it reminds me of home, even I’m not one to sleep in the marsh.” He laughed a little.
Does this guy even sleep, you wondered. You had seen his room once before, and envisioned that marsh in the corner of his room completely overrunning the rest. 
“Uh,” You toed the carpet and pursed your lips. You were still a little upset with him, but the idea of him going through the painstaking process of looking through every room in the hotel made it more reasonable for him to disappear earlier. “I mean, you could… stay with me. Tonight. Just tonight. Everything should be fine tomorrow, but I don’t want you without a bed. You know.” You rambled.
You and Alastor had gotten close over the past year, a little closer than he was with anybody else, but you avoided thinking too hard about your relationship. You worried that overthinking would cause you to accidentally overstep a boundary and you would lose the progress you’ve built getting to know him. You were worried about doing just that even as the offer tumbled from your mouth.
You watched as his teeth began to peek through his lips as his smile widened. There was something in his expression that you couldn’t quite place. Pride, maybe? Accomplishment? You weren’t sure. You didn’t have much time to consider it before his smile composed and he remained unreadable.
“How bold of you,” His voice cooed, the static that surrounded him buzzing louder as his face got closer to you. You swallowed back a lump that had formed at the proximity. “Inviting a man into your room. It’s rather unbecoming of a lady like yourself.”
“I-” Your face grew hot.
“I’m joking!” He interrupted you, leaning himself away and back in a laugh. He waved his hand at you while you frowned. You hated the way he lived off of teasing and embarrassing.
“Okay, nevermind then!” You folded your arms and stuck your nose to the side and in the air. His laughter paused and he looked back down at you. Heat still burned on your cheeks and ears.
He examined you for an uncomfortably long period of time. You had your eyes squeezed shut and you upheld your attitude in the silence for as long as you could before the prickling of radio static on your skin became too uncomfortable. You peeked open one eye to look, and immediately got nervous.
He was just standing there. Just staring with his sinister red eyes. It didn’t help that he was quite taller than you. Looming and staring. Probably the worst combination, especially with that buzzing of his.
You felt like an open book, way too vulnerable under his gaze. You lowered your head to look at nothing in particular by your feet.
“So… yes or no…” You said, taking back your earlier statement. “You can have the bed, of course. I’ll just… find a blanket for the floor or something.” If there’s anything dry, you added to yourself.
His expression broke from concentration, lifting immediately into a gleeful, toothy grin. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and guided you to the bed.
“Won’t be necessary!” He cheered. He pulled at the covers and pushed you down gently. Or, well, gently by Alastor’s standards. You still bounced upon impact. You sat there, a bit dazed with confusion as you watched him cross to the other side of the room and tuck himself under the same sheets. 
“Alastor- Hey, really, I don’t mind-” He put a finger up to your lips, dramatically shutting you up. You decided to listen.
“What’s a sleepover between two close friends!” He said gleefully. You couldn’t help but let the term ‘friends’ echo in your mind as you fiddled with your thumbs.
Silence filled the room again, but after a while it became more comfortable than awkward. The sound of radio frequencies had died down a little. You refused to look at him. The clock ticked faintly in the corner.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt clawed fingers grab into your shoulder and pull you closer to the Radio Demon. You aided the movement by using your hands to scoot towards him.
Again, you had become close with him over the year, but you never took too long to consider just what you were. You always waited for him to make any move, because otherwise he might completely reject you. So, when he made the decision to bring you closer, you happily obliged, albeit a little anxiously.
You gingerly put your head against his chest, listening to the thrum of his heart. Or what might be a heart. Who knows. You held in a laugh when you realized that even that had some sort of radio-like sound to it. Nonetheless, it did help lull you out of any nerves you had being so close and intimate to Alastor.
You lifted yourself off of him with an elbow and looked at him. He was already looking at you, unsurprisingly, so your eyes met his. They were glowing a little, you noticed.
His face still had a grin, but it was light. And comfortable. His eyebrows were relaxed as he just watched you. 
Your heart was beating uncomfortably fast, and you were embarrassed to think that he might be able to feel it with how close your chest was to his.
If he did, he made no indication of it. He just kept looking at you with the strangest expression you’ve ever seen on him. It was gentle. His words from earlier played in your mind again; when he called you and him ‘friends.’
Did ‘friends’ look at each other like this?
Did ‘friends’ inch closer to each other as they stared into the others’ eyes, bodies flush against one another and legs beginning to tangle?
Your jaw clenched and unclenched as you neared him, and you frantically examined him for even the smallest hint of wanting you to stop. You swore he was leaning in too, though.
You felt his breath brush against your nose. Your heart was practically clawing itself out of your ribs and the elbow you had propped yourself up on grew wobbly with nerves. When Alastor’s eyes began to shut, ever so slowly, you followed suit.
And, for an incredibly brief moment, your lips touched his. One, two, maybe three seconds passed before he pulled away from you. You opened your eyes to watch his expression grow a bit puzzled. His smile was tight, and his brows furrowed slightly as he watched you. He seemed deep in thought, with what exactly you couldn’t guess, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable.
At some point his hand had come and was gingerly settled on your hip, which he used to pull you back down. Your elbow practically gave out and you fell a little rough back down on his chest. You couldn’t help but stare widely at the wall for a moment, just listening to his heartbeat again. Was it beating faster than before?
You smiled lightly. You had no idea if this was a step forward in your relationship with the Radio Demon, or if it would be back to ‘friends’ tomorrow, but you decided to just cross your fingers. You reached your arms up to wrap under his neck, and you slowly made yourself comfortable. He had lightly settled his own arms on your back.
You couldn’t help but send silent thanks to that aggressive fish demon from earlier, and a thanks to god himself, as strained as your opinions towards that guy was, for keeping your bed dry.
When Alastor began drawing shapes in your back, gently dragging his sharp nail across your clothed skin, you cast away all worries about the next day out of your head. It all seemed so far away now as you took in the smell of the demon laying underneath you.
You just hoped this would become a regular thing, because man, was this comfortable.
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too-much-tma-stuff · 3 months
Text
Finally Getting Help (pt 3)
first | last | Masterpost | Next
What Tim and Bruce found was completely ridiculous. It really wasn’t hard to find the Doctors Fenton’s website but it was ridiculous! It was outdated and gaudy with animations of cartoony ghosts everywhere. If it hadn’t been for how clear Danny was about his parents' names Tim would have skipped right over it. But when he got past the terrible website design and started reading it his stomach just dropped lower and lower.
The writing was clean and scientific though it couldn’t disguise the malicious delight they took in tearing the creatures they called ‘ghosts’ apart. Whatever these ghosts really were Danny had been internalizing this attitude about Himself for years! They also bragged about their weapons and their government contract. So whether that was true or not Danny hadn’t been lying or delusional, it was his parents. And regardless of what these ghosts actually were it was obvious they were supernatural so RR sent a link to the website to Zatana.
(link)
RR: What do you think?
Tana: Lol is this a joke?
RR: I wish, I know it looks like one but no, this is deadly serious.
Tana: Hang on
Red Robin put down his phone to give Zatana the time to read over the site and looked more into Maddy and Jack Fenton while she did. He found their graduation certificates, and pictures of them in college with what must have been a much younger Vlad. So they were actually doctors of some sort, they had their doctorate, though that didn’t exactly make it any less likely they had gone fully off the rails now.
His phone dinged and he picked it up to see one short message from Zatana.
Tana: I’m coming to the cave.
Tim sighed and put his phone back down, spinning his chair to face B who was hunched over the computer typing furiously. “Zatana is on her way, I asked for her opinion of the Fenton’s research and she must think it’s big.” He said as he dug out a domino mask.
“Hm,” B sounded and went to get his cowl. “Report?”
“The Doctors Fenton are doctors, they got their doctorates though I don’t know in what yet. They’ve been friends with Vlad since university and they certainly at least think they’re studying ghosts. Their website has articles on behaviours and biology, and how to hunt and hurt ghosts. They brag about a government contract.” Tim summarized. “You?”
“The Ghost Investigation Ward does exist and they are a government agency but they only seem to be active in the town of Amity Park and they’re so inept! It wasn’t hard to hack them, they’re trying to sound mysterious and a little dangerous talking about protecting humanity from invasions from other worlds but I don’t think they’re actually that competent,” Batman said with a scowl.
“The only reason we didn’t know about this was because we weren’t looking! And it’s possible Danny is right and they were jamming calls from Amity to the JL, but I have a terrible feeling what actually happened if that the call came through and someone heard them talking about ghosts and rogue government agencies, assumed it was a prank and blocked them,” Bruce said massaging his temples.
“Ah,” Tim said, his heart dropping at how plausible that sounded. Could they have saved Danny before, if they had taken that call seriously.
“And Vlad is the mayor of his town, there are articles about Danny fighting him in public. It seems like everyone knew their relationship was antagonistic at best and No One defended him. The GIW also listed him in their special thanks for helping fund them. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been using them as a tool to threaten and control Danny.” Batman said with cold fury. Tim took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.
“We weren’t able to protect him, but we will avenge him. And we’ll keep him safe Now,” Tim reminded his father. Privately thinking that as soon as he could he was going to tell Jason about this so they could Really make sure Vlad never came near Danny again. An arrest just wasn’t strong enough for a man like that. He wasn’t going to tell Bruce that though, obviously.
The sound of the Zeta tube interrupted their moment as Zatana arrived, looking slightly more ruffled then she usually did. She must have really rushed here, which was a bit worrying.
“Zatana,” Batman greeted.
“Hello Batman, before we talk I need to check your wards.” She said already walking past them.
“Hm,” Batman sounded, making RR smile a little, how Batman made that sound mean so many different things always sort of amazed him.
“I need to check the ones on your home too. And I’d like to meet the boy you have under your care,” She said briskly.
“How did you know about the boy?” Batman asked gruffly.
“Lucky guess,” she said briskly, her hands glowed as she walked around the cave, making seemingly random gestures as if touching or pulling on invisible threads. None of the bats really understood magic so they left her to it. When she was done they let her up into the manner, she knew their identities already after all and she checked all the wards on the home very thoroughly, occasionally casting spells to reinforce them. They collected Dick and Damian trailing after them curiously as they went as well.
“Alright, can I meet the boy now?” She asked, turning towards Bruce who crossed his arms and puffed out his chest a bit.
“Not till you explain to us what’s going on,” He growled and Zatana looked over the curious stubborn faces surrounding her and sighed.
“Fine,” she allowed, resigned. She rubbed her temples as she looked around for a chair and sunk down into it. “So what the Fentons seem to be referring to as Ghosts are actually denizens of the Infinite Realms, the space in between every world and afterlife. Some of the beings there were once people who died but many aren’t. They’re also known to be very powerful and quite violent though thankfully not particularly interested in the living. The fact that the Government is apparently messing with something like this is very bad news.
“Constantine and I have been keeping half an eye on the situation in Amity Park but they had their own pair of Heroes, Phantom and Red Huntress, who seemed to have the situation well under control so we weren’t all that worried about it. We weren’t tracking the more human elements of the GIW and the Fentons,” She bit her lip and thought for a moment.
“When Tim sent me that website and I was made aware of those, that changed things. What’s worse is the photo the Fentons’ have of their family. Their son… we knew Phantom looked young but ghosts often stay at a younger age than they really are, with how powerful he was we assumed he was Old. But he looks exactly like the Fenton’s son. Did they not notice he was dead or…” She looked around at their faces, apparently getting her answer from their expressions.
“There have been rumours for a long time about a very rare and powerful sort of living dead, humans soaked in the pure energy of the infinite realms resulting in a still living ancient. It’s so rare that people usually think it’s a fairy tale but with the work Phantom’s parents do it makes a sick sort of sense. And what it means is that that boy you have stashed away is basically a baby God and we all have to be very careful.”
There was a heavy silence as they all processed what she was saying. “Are you… sure?” Tim asked, uncertainly.
“I won’t be till I meet him, but I’m as sure as I can be without that at the moment,” she said firmly.
Tim sighed and pulled out his phone. “Cas is with him, I’ll text her to see if she’s up to meeting you. If he’s that powerful we don’t want to push him right?” He asked as he typed out a text to Cas.
“Yes. Like I said he’s been acting as a hero in Amity, he seems like a good kid but I have no doubt in my mind if he’s pushed too far we could have a truly apocalyptic situation on our hands,” She said which made Tim swallow thickly.
His phone dinged and he checked it. “Danny is willing to meet you but he’s really tired so go easy on him and don’t stay long,” Tim relayed her message.
“Alright that’s fine, thank you. Show me the way please,” She requested.
Bruce took over, leaving the way. “We don’t want to overwhelm him, I think only I and Zatana should go in, with Cas still there since he seems to feel safe with her,” Bruce informed his children.
“Alright, just tell us everything soon!” Dick demanded and Bruce’s lips twitched up in just the suggestion of a smile as he nodded to them.
He took off his cowl, he wasn’t in his full uniform anyway and he didn’t want to scare Danny. Besides if he had been a hero even if he clocked Bruce he would understand.
“Hello Danny, it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Zatana,” She introduced herself s she followed Bruce in. She would have offered her hand to shake but Danny was half hiding behind Cas sitting on the bed.
“It’s nice to meet you too. What’s with the outfit?” He asked curiously which made her laugh.
“I’m a hero, one of the less known ones. I’m part of Justice League Dark which is their supernatural division along with Constantine and Deadman and a few others. He’s a ghost, but I assure you the government hasn’t been giving him any trouble, probably because they knew they wouldn’t get away with it.”
“So I’m just lucky then,” Danny said with a bitter curl to his lips.
“As a hero, I want to ask, are you Phantom?” She asked rather bluntly.
Bruce shivered as the temperature in the room suddenly dropped a few degrees and Danny’s eyes started to swirl with green as he glared at Zatana who managed to barely react. Batman noticed how her back tensed a bit but it was barely there. “You know?” Danny demanded. “You knew about what was going on in Amity and you didn’t help?!”
“I’m very sorry Danny,” She said genuinely. “We knew something was going on, but we didn’t look closely enough. We thought that you were an older ghost just of someone who died young because of your strength, and it looked like things were under control. Normally our involvement wouldn’t have been appreciated, intruding on someone’s haunt, so we didn’t look any closer. I am so sorry we overlooked you but we’re going to make up for it now I promise.
“I’ve checked and reinforced the wards on the house so nothing should be able to come in uninvited, and I’m going to contact the rest of the JLD. We’re going to go to Amity, we’ll figure this out and deal with it I promise.”
The temperature in the room slowly went back up, Danny was still upset, but he didn’t seem like he was about to snap anymore. While Zatana had been talking Cas had started gently rubbing Danny’s back and that seemed to be helping too. After a moment Danny looked up again and nodded, accepting the help.
“The veil must be very thin there, to let so many ghosts through?” Zatana probed gently.
“It is, but more than that two years ago my parents succeeded in building a portal to what they call the Ghost Zone. This kinda green world of floating islands.
“A portal,” Zatana said flatly, blinking rapidly. “To the Infinite Realms?”
“Ah is that what it’s really called? Ya probably? That’s how everyone’s been getting through. How I got my powers too, the ghosts call me a halfa, but I’m not the only one. Vlad’s one too.”
Batman heard Zatana mutter “Two?” softly, baffled and alarmed but she nodded. Bruce filed that information away too, it seemed Vlad was even more of a threat then he’d first appeared to be.
“Alright, I’ll get as many of the JLD together as I can and we’ll head to Amity. We’ll shut down the portal and deal with this.” She said determinedly.
From the look on Danny’s face he didn’t really believe her, but he nodded again and leaned against Cas. “Good luck I suppose,” he muttered and sighed, rubbing his face.
“Just… tell me if you get in over your heads okay, I’m used to dealing with all this stuff.” God he sounded so tired, the poor kid.
“I will, but don’t worry about us, just take care of yourself okay? This is a good place to be, I promise you won’t have to be alone anymore.” Zatana assured him. She probably had more questions, but it was very obvious that Danny was getting tired.
“Bruce is good dad,” Cas chimed in, speaking up for the first time. It embarrassed Bruce a little but he smiled at them and nodded a little.
“Thank you,” Danny said, his shoulder slumped and his back curled. “Can I go to bed now?”
“Of course Chum,” Bruce agreed, starting to shoo Zatana out of the bedroom with Cas on their heels. When they closed the door behind them Bruce heard the lock click quietly closed behind them. He really hoped that Danny would feel safe enough to sleep well.
@zlinen  @sebas-nights   @littlefeather345  @isnt-that-grape     @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit  @shadowkatt99  @fantasticstoryteller @blackshuckatdusk @blacksea21090  @sithlordchimchnga @fanfictionforme2 @imalittlefangirl25 @bushbees @yotsubaayase @thomasdimensor @ultimatebluff
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livingemkayde · 10 months
Text
waterfront
neighbor!joel miller/dbf!joel miller x f!reader
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Warnings: Rated 18+. CONSIDER THIS YOUR FUCKING COMMUNITY LABEL LOL. Minors please dni. Smut. unprotected p in v. age gap. Pet names. Dirty talk. Dom!joel. Oblivious ass reader's dad. Not proof read one bit (per usual). 
a/n: thank you so much for the recent love. you guys are honestly so funny - COMMENT ASK REQUEST PLEASE INTERACT WITH ME IM SO LONELY ON HERE. this lil mini series has really pushed me to write despite some…things (and by things—i actually have been getting a shit ton of hate on my din fic for some weird reason?? so im really happy this dbf corner of tumblr is very accepting cuz that was really making me feel…SAD LMFAO). also do you guys picture joel in this fic as game joel or hbo joel - i wanna know. please enjoy this token of my gratitude as always. 
wc: 4.5k
this is apart of my small dbf!joel mini series, read the previous parts here:
part i part ii
if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!
“Fuck, Joel,” you mutter when you finally relax around him, your tight walls flutter at the feeling of his cock moving halfway out of you. When he pushes back in you see stars.  “That’s right honey —fuck— so good for me,” he pants, bottoming out again and setting a slow pace that punches each breath out of you. “Teasin’ me all day—couldn’t fuckin’ wait any longer.” 
“Sweetie? Have you seen the sunblock?” 
“Yeah dad, in the back bathroom!” you yell back from your room. 
It’s honestly unbelievable. 
Packing. 
You’re packing. 
For a weekend getaway at some beach house property one of Joel’s client’s offered him for the weekend.
Joel’s client. 
Joel Miller.
Who got down on his knees for you at your graduation barbecue. Who fingered you in the front seat of his pick-up truck when your dad was looking for you. 
Who refused to talk to you after that. Not like you were trying anyways. This had to stop. Especially since you and Liam have been talking more and he’s…nice. Boring—sure. But he’s what’s good for you. 
He even got you a job at some hardware store on the other side of town. 
Liam was keeping you company—no—keeping you busy. But not enough to stop the incessant thoughts of your middle aged neighbor who is—even worse—probably your dad’s only close friend. 
You tried to keep your distance. For your sake and Joel’s. You don’t want to know what’s going on in his mind anymore. All you know is he continually runs laps around yours. 
You can’t shake how he looked at the barbecue. How the sea of people parted for him like he was Moses, greeting him with strong handshakes and acrylic nails wrapping around his bicep. But even worse, you can’t stop thinking about how through all those people—he found your eyes first. 
You tried to convince yourself that maybe Joel was thinking the same thing you were. That this—whatever it is—was actually fucking ridiculous and had to stop. 
Because it did have to stop. But it never felt ridiculous to you, as much as you will yourself to believe. 
You tried to convince yourself that much when your hand was down your pants in the middle of the night. Something sounding a lot like Joel’s name on the tip of your tongue as you made yourself come. 
You aren’t sure if your dad has seen much of him either—saying something about how he was booked through the fourth of July weekend with a huge project he was working on with his brother. 
That’s why you were shocked when your dad came up to your room with a grin explaining he counted you in on the weekend getaway with Joel, Sarah, and the two of you. 
You were excited to see more of Sarah — she had really grown up in the time you were away. But with Sarah comes Joel, and you aren’t sure if the butterflies in your stomach were from anxiety or anticipation at that thought. 
A half a day after your dad told you to get packing, you’re in the backseat of Joel’s truck, Sarah at your side, while she talks everyone's ear off about something. You aren’t really paying attention because Joel can’t stop stealing glances at you in the rear view mirror—and let's be honest. You can’t stop either. 
“—so then she said to me that it was my fault. I mean can you believe that?” Sarah slaps your arm gently while finishing her story. 
She looks around the car for approval and the dads just shrug their shoulders. You give her a sympathetic look. 
“Sorry Sarah, sounds crazy,” you say, grabbing her hand. You—honest to god—tried to pay attention but there were so many names thrown out you couldn’t keep up. It didn’t help that the man in the driver's seat kept you up at night—almost every night—since the barbecue. 
“I know! But then Jackson was like okay with it so whatever,” she gives you a knowing look, finishing her story—don’t say anything else because my dad’s here.
“Boys,” your dad murmurs to Joel under his breath, but you catch it. 
You also catch Joel shaking his head in response, letting out a huff and a—
“Tell me ‘bout it.” 
You meet his eye through the rear view mirror and drop his gaze quickly. His knuckles go white on the steering wheel. 
You think you’re almost off the hook and maybe can get some rest but Sarah lets out the first of many—
“Are we almost there yet?” 
Four more of those and you arrive at a secluded beach house on the coast. Joel pulls up to the back of the house, you can see the deck which leads down to the beach. Sarah and your dad hop out of the truck hastily—excited to see the house, and enter through the back door. It leaves you and Joel in the car together. Alone, for a few uncomfortable seconds until he finally speaks. 
“You alright?” 
It throws you for a loop. Joel Miller asking if you’re okay? You must be dying. You look at him through the mirror, an eyebrow raising. 
“‘M fine,” you reply back, monotone.
“Do you wanna talk?” 
Another surprise. 
“There’s nothing to talk about. You made that clear,” you huff, putting an emphasis on you so maybe he can start to feel an ounce of what you do. 
He gets out of the car but you don’t move from your position. Your dad and Sarah have disappeared into the house, undoubtedly claiming the best bedrooms and rifling through the owner’s things. 
He opens your door, his hand hanging off the top of it while his other braces himself on the car near your head. He dips his head closer to you, taking up the entirety of the door frame. 
“You gonna be a brat this whole trip?” His drawl, rich and velvety, almost tricks you into leaning up to kiss him, but you snap out of it from his words. The name shouldn’t make you clench your thighs together like it does. You opt for anger over letting him see what he does to you.
“I’m the brat?” You bite back. He’s not going to do this again. If it’s your last dying wish, Joel Miller will learn a lesson this trip. For leaving you high and dry. For being a fucking asshole, just like you told him at the barbecue a couple days ago.
“You think parading that lil boy ‘round here s’okay?”
“Again with Liam? It’s not any of your business.” 
You look at him. Really look at him—and there’s a certain emotion behind his eyes you can’t place. Like he’s biting his tongue, and you know he is.
“What, Joel? God,” you say, exasperated. 
“Nothin’—I—” he pauses like he’s trying to collect his thoughts before speaking. Then he says something that surprises you—like maybe he really does care about you and what happened in his truck. 
“He make you laugh?” 
You stare at him, shocked, and you can’t help but soften your gaze. You feel like bursting into a puddle of tears—but what’s even worse—you feel like running into his arms. 
“He doesn’t make me cry.” 
He looks down at that. Like he’s defeated. 
“I told you I care,” he throws his words back in your face. From when he had his tongue buried inside you. 
You roll your eyes. 
“What? You think I want it like this?” He continues when you don’t respond.
“I have no fucking idea what you want.” 
“I want to not be sneaking around behind my friend’s back. Your dad’s back.”
“Didn’t stop you before.”
He pushes off the car at that, putting his hands on his hips while scoffing to himself. You think you catch him mumbling something and before you can bite your tongue you urge him to speak up. 
“Insane,” he grunts.
“Sorry?” 
“I said you drive me fuckin’ insane.” 
You pause at that. Partially because his tone suggests it’s not the typical insane but like he can’t stay away from you. Like you drive him up the walls. Like he can’t stop thinking about you. Maybe even the kind of insane he makes you feel. Maybe it's the same thing he does to you. And you didn’t know you did…anything to Joel. 
“That’s my job,” you reply sarcastically instead of saying something stupid—or something you regret. 
You break his gaze—looking down to unlatch your seatbelt. When your hand goes to click the button, you stay fiddling with it; the latch fails to come out of the buckle. 
“‘S jammed. Need to get a repair,” he reaches over you to unlatch it himself. 
But you don’t get your hand out of the way quick enough and your fingers meet over the button. 
He pauses, you both do. The contact makes your head spin. 
You think he’s going to pull away. An apology is already braced on your tongue but instead of moving or retracting, he tentatively rubs your hand with his thumb instead, lacing his fingers through yours like it’s second nature. 
He’s in your space, and he smells like Joel, and you don’t think the two of you have ever shared a more intimate moment. Not even when his mouth was between your legs. 
You look up at him, hesitant, because you aren’t sure what’s going to be looking back. But he stares at you, his eyes soft. Joel looks down to your lips and back up to your eyes. His brow twitches a bit. You let out soft pants—the peaks of your breasts threaten to ghost against his chest. 
He looks at your lips again and inches closer, starting to duck his head. 
“‘M sorry,” he grumbles in a low, dangerous drawl that shoots right up your spine. 
You don’t think it’s a phrase he says often. You’ve never heard it. It sounds foreign on his lips, especially when they’re inching closer to yours. 
“For what?” You squeak out, a breath cutting through your words. 
“Everythin’.” 
Your eyes urge him to continue. 
“Thought I could stay away f’m you.” 
He gets closer. 
“Thought it was the right thing.” 
You shake your head. 
“But I don’t think I can stay away.” 
“Don’t stay away. Don’t go,” you plead with him and shake your head. All of your plans to make him pay have honestly gone out the window. But when he says things like that and he really—honest to god—means them? You know you’re fucked. 
“'M here.” 
You close your eyes at his words and will your tears back when they close. All you can smell is Joel and all you can feel is his hand coming up to loosely wrap around your throat, the curve of his palm hugging your collar bone. 
“Look at me.” In a blink, you do. 
He’s closer, if possible. 
And he kisses you. It’s the first time he’s ever kissed you. It’s not tentative, or aggressive.
This kiss feels like the real apology. Not him on his knees for you and then ignoring you after. He kisses like he’s willing you to forgive him. You know he’s not good with words—that’s why this kiss feels like the heartbreak that had settled in your chest is scattering. It feels like your old fantasies and butterflies breaching the surface are making you moan into his mouth. 
He kisses you like a man starved, but also like he’s scared of messing up again. 
It feels fucking good—he feels fucking good. 
His hand on your throat lengthens your neck to deepen the kiss. Your hands find his bicep and squeeze the life out of him. 
His other hand pulls at the hem of your shirt and almost ghosts the skin of your stomach but the sound of a door slamming snaps you both out of it. Joel turns to see Sarah pushing out of the patio door with her back turned towards you, carrying towels and a cooler. He quickly unbuckles your seatbelt with dexterous fingers, helping you out of the car.
You act like you were helping him unload the flatbed when Sarah turns around—a big smile cast on her face.
“Get your bikini on! Let’s go!” She looks at you and nods towards the ocean over her stack of beach supplies. 
“Alright, alright, I’m going.” 
You hustle into the house with a duffle slung over your shoulder. You can see your dad in the kitchen rifling through the pantry—the cooler for drinks and food abandoned on the floor near the fridge. 
You find a bathroom and change into your swimsuit quickly. You don’t miss the wet spot on your panties. From a kiss nonetheless. You’re beginning to think you’re way more fucked than either you or Joel like to believe. 
You rush out onto the patio. Sarah is probably shoulder deep in the water and it’s way too fucking hot to be sitting under the sun without taking a dip. You haven’t been to a nice beach like this in a really long time. You don’t remember the last time you went on vacation. 
This is nice.  
Joel is being way too…nice. 
You pass him on the way to the beach where you see Sarah jumping through the water. He looks at you, subtly. Out of the corner of his eye. You try to avoid his gaze and hide your blush but you can feel his burning eyes shift to the back of your head as you give him a small smile in passing. 
“Dad! C’mon let's go!” Sarah yells from the water. You look to see Joel staring back at you—you drop his eye when your dad busts through the door. 
“‘N a minute!” Joel grumbles as he throws his duffle over his shoulder, carting in a crate of barbecue things for the weekend. 
Your flip flops splat on the deck as you break into a small jog down to where Sarah is. She smiles at you as you run into the water. The two of you playing in the salty spring like teenagers—well she is—you aren’t. 
You can see your dad and Joel settle on beach chairs some yards away from the shoreline. They sport a couple beers and talk amongst themselves while watching you and Sarah play in the water. 
You catch Joel’s eye a couple times. He even comes down and throws around a football with your dad. He splashes and teases you all day. 
When the sun finally extends down to the horizon and the water turns orange from its light, Sarah tells you she’s beat and basically hobbles back over to the dads on the beach chairs. She slumps down onto the one next to Joel, you move towards them as well, trying not to blush because you know Joel is looking at you before you meet his eyes. 
“Tired?” Joel asks, not to you or Sarah in particular, but it falls on you—Sarah already asleep on the beach chair. 
“Exhausted.” You plop down on the chair beside your dad, taking a towel and drying your hair off before moving to the rest of your body. 
“Want dinner? I’ll make my burgers,” your dad inquires, beginning to stand and take the beers with him. 
“Sounds good dad.” You stand and wrap the towel around your body. “Need a shower.”
You try to wake Sarah up gently, she grumbles and stalks off to the house, you, trailing behind her. She kicks her flip flops off at the entrance and moves to the couch in the living room. She’s back asleep before you get the chance to enter the door. 
Your dad moves to the kitchen, you don’t know where Joel went. Maybe you left him back on the beach. You move to take a cold shower, the small tug in your stomach grew to be quite big when you caught him staring at your exposed skin on the beach. 
When you get upstairs, you enter your designated bedroom. You smile when you realize it has a bathroom attached to it. You strip off your bathing suit, putting it in the sink of your bathroom. 
You wrap a towel around your body and go to twist the knob of your shower. When you tug it towards hot it comes off the shower wall with a chink and you curse to yourself, the water coming out in a leak rather than a stream. 
You huff. This is not what you need right now. 
“Dad!” You call from the doorway of your bedroom—not wanting to venture further in just a towel. 
You turn away from the door—moving into the bathroom, trying to chance figuring out how to fix it instead, when a pair of footsteps fall by your bedroom door. 
“You okay?” A voice calls from your bedroom, but it’s not your dads. 
You jump at the sound of a honey rich southern drawl echoing your name as Joel pushes through the bathroom door to find you in your towel, holding the shower handle.
“Jesus—” he looks away with a cough, you can tell he’s shocked to see you in just a towel. But when he sees you holding the handle he does a double take. 
“What the hell did y’do?” He flips between giving you privacy and moving toward you with an outstretched hand, taking the shower handle into his own. 
“I just tried to turn it on and it snapped off,” you try to reason with him, a flush coming to your cheeks when he comes into the bathroom. 
“Move,” he grumbles, sneaking by you. In the brief moment you come chest to chest, you look up at him and he lets out a groan. His hand snakes by your waist. He looks down at you—a dangerous look in his eyes. 
Joel breaks first, moving towards the shower. 
“I’m gonna—yeah—just…uh thanks,” you gesture to your towel and shut the door to the bathroom behind you. Leaving Joel in there alone. 
You throw on an oversized t-shirt and underwear before he comes out, sans shower handle. 
“Thanks,” you mumble, suddenly self conscious you didn’t have time to put on pants. You aren’t sure why. Joel’s seen…a lot already. 
“‘Course,” he says, but doesn’t leave like you anticipated. 
“You havin’ fun?” He asks. There’s something in his tone that suggests he doesn’t actually care. 
“Yeah,” you reply, breathless, “Thanks for inviting us.”  
“sorry—I—” he points to the bathroom, “thought you were in trouble or somethin’.” 
“‘S’okay.” 
He looks at you, and down to your bare legs, your underwear just peeking out from beneath your shirt’s hem. 
The way Joel looks at you—like you’re the only one who matters—stokes the fire growing in your stomach. The look in his eyes tells you he’s still wrestling with his moral compass. Like he needs to stay away for his own good, but like he said in the car—he just can’t. 
Joel nods, and steps back like he’s turning to leave. You don’t want him to. You need him. When you take a tentative step toward him, he suddenly breaks into stride in your direction. The dam of fleeting touches and wandering eyes for half a day breaks. He grabs your face in his hands, kissing you hard. His tongue slips to run over your bottom lip and you whine into his mouth. 
Your hands come up to rest on his chest. His, wrapping around your waist while he dips his head to start kissing your neck.
“Joel–” you start, but the feeling of his lips on the sensitive parts of your collarbone punches your breath.
He only hums at that sentiment. 
“Where are we going?” you manage to get out, when he’s tugging you into the bathroom by your wrist, shutting the door behind him. 
“Need to fuck you,” he groans into your ear as he spins you around, so your hips press into the bathroom counter. You can look into the mirror and see your reflection. You look entirely too fucked out from a couple kisses and he looks stone cold. 
“J-Joel—ah—jesus,” you moan when his hand dips to your front and catches your clit through cotton. 
“Say please,” he groans into the skin of your neck. You turn your head to catch his lips in a chaste kiss. It's all tongue and teeth, but you don’t mind either way. He’s close, he’s here and he’s kissing you. 
You break away from the kiss just enough to whine out a small, “Please–fuck–”
You don’t really know what you’re asking for, but you know if that’s what he wants—you’d give him anything in this particular moment. 
“Nicer.” 
You whine, the pad of his finger catches your clit just right.
“Please, Joel,” you cut out through bated breath. 
He huffs, you can hear the sound of clinking and shuffling behind you—the tell tale sign of his belt coming undone. 
“Alright, baby, c’mon,” he pushes you down, folds you in half, your breasts pressed against marble. It's cold, and his hot hands on your waist, snaking down to slot his fingers in your underwear makes you dizzy. 
“You’re a tease,” he groans when he eases your underwear to the side, the head of his cock catches your clit.
“Joel—p—fuck—” His cock catches at your entrance. You both pause for a second, reveling in the feeling. One of his hands grips your waist so hard you’re sure you’ll have bruises by dinnertime. The other pushes your face down—fingers tangling in your hair. 
“Look in the mirror,” he growls, lifting your head up by your hair, just enough so you can watch his face as his tip slips past your entrance. 
He stretches you out just from that, you muffle down a scream in your throat. 
Joel’s mouth goes slack but he doesn’t react much with his face. He just looks down at your bodies connecting and pants while he slowly slides home. 
“‘S big Joel. Feel so good—oh my god—” he breaks you open and splits you in two. His breath cuts somewhere behind your head—your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. 
He buries himself to the hilt, you curse and mutter inconsistencies into the bathroom. His iron grip on your body goes tighter if possible. 
“Eyes open,” he growls behind you. “You can take it baby, c’mon.” 
You will open your eyes, focusing on him in the mirror. He has a sheen of sweat already casing his forehead, his shirt is half unbuttoned with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 
“Relax, angel,” he pants. “You’re squeezing me — could barely get it in,” 
He settles there, you try to relax but the stretch makes you squirm underneath him. He lets you adjust to his length, cursing every time you clench around him. It’s filthy. Obscene. He’s pushing your head up — lifting you by your hair, so you can see him spear into you with no remorse. He’s filthy, and so are you. 
“Fuck, Joel,” you mutter when you finally relax around him, your tight walls flutter at the feeling of his cock moving halfway out of you. When he pushes back in you see stars. 
“That’s right honey —fuck— so good for me,” he pants, bottoming out again and setting a slow pace that punches each breath out of you. “Teasin’ me all day—couldn’t fuckin’ wait any longer.” 
“More please,” you whine, meeting his eye in the mirror. The air is thick in the bathroom now, the potpourri on the sill of the window doesn’t really mask much of anything. 
He complies—surprisingly. Moving faster and harder, each push of his hips knocks you into the counter. The grip on your waist gets impossibly tight. The hand pulling at your hair finally lets you rest back down on the counter, pushing hair out of your face when you look back at him. It rests on the back of your neck. 
“Feel so good baby,” he groans. 
“Joel—I’m—I can’t, I’m gonna—” 
“C’mon angel, come for me,” he says, you take another peak at him through the mirror. He looks wrecked. But you look even worse. 
You get impossibly tight around him while he mutters things you can’t hear over the ringing in your ears. You think you hear him toss out a small that’s right when you finally spill over the edge. 
He fucks you through it, his pace doesn’t let up, the coldness of the counter brings you back to reality. Where his breaths are becoming groans and pants and he strokes your cheek with his thumb. 
“‘Nother,” is all he says when your tight walls finally relax, molding to him and only him. 
“I–I can’t—” you say, slumped against the counter. You sound cock drunk. It’s halfway true though. No one else has ever made you come twice in one night. You were starting to think it might be a myth. 
“Know you can, pretty girl,” he goes slow at that, angling down so the tip of his cock catches something inside you that lights the fire again. “There we go. ‘S okay, can feel it already.” 
He pushes you towards another orgasm, it washes over your entire body and you slump against the counter. Maybe it’s some sort of weird trance he has you in. Or maybe you were right and this — whatever it is — is getting bad. Fast. You’re threatening to fall. But he’s there, and he picks you up and holds you down. 
“Jesus. Fuck, baby,” he curses into your skin when your release coats his cock and lets him sink deeper, thrust faster, push harder. 
“Joel—fuck. Fuck.” Maybe the overstimulation should be getting to you, but you stay there like that, as he speeds up and his thrusts become more frantic. He chases after his own orgasm. 
“Turn over,” he says, hastily. His hands move at your body before you can process his words. He flips you around and slots himself in between your legs—sliding back in deep, grinding into you while folding over so his head is in the crook of your neck. 
“Please,” you whimper. You both know what you’re asking for. But he pulls out, ripping your shirt up and spilling all over your stomach and breasts. It coats you, the liquid hot and he dips his head to watch it coat your body. He lets out a strangled string of curses, bracing himself on the counter as he comes. 
He kisses you. Really kisses you. You grab his face and moan into it. Like you’re willing him to stay there, in between your legs forever. 
But he breaks first, moving to grab a towel out of the cabinet above the toilet. He cleans you up gently, wetting the towel with warm water before it touches your skin. The sentiment could make you cry. 
When he’s done cleaning you up, he kisses your forehead. Joel wraps his arms around you as you sling yours over his shoulders. He holds you there, his hand coming to cup the back of your head, stroking your hair and breathing hot kisses into your crown. You smile, lazily. 
He pulls back just enough to look at you. You know you still look wrecked and are in desperate need of a shower—he looks perfect by contrast, completely untouched and definitely unbothered. 
“Dangerous,” he mutters when you look at him through your lashes. 
You kiss him instead of responding.
You know Joel's right—this is dangerous. 
But it feels way too good to stop. 
_
part iv
taglist! (comment or message me if you would like to be added) kisses to you all:
@nostalxgic @iluvurfather
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sunaluv · 1 year
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WAGs
WAG: A wife or girlfriend of a sports star
Featuring: k.sakusa, r.suna
[ushijima,atsumu] vers.
Note: happy new year! I love how I posted like 5 things then dipped but I wanted to write some more on here 😭 enjoy!
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Sakusa:
You had met sakusa whilst he was making a name for himself. He wasn’t as big as he was now, but his name would be floating around the internet somewhere.
That’s actually how you first saw him. One of your friends had shared a photo of his in a groupchat, and the whole chat was going crazy over this insanely hot insanely talented upcoming volleyball star.
Of course you found him attractive, but you were absolutely certain he would be yours. There was no mindless attraction. You geniuinely believed your friend had just send your future husband directly to you.
She kinda did tho
Flash forward a couple months, you were doing some early morning shopping as one does. The store was quieter, everything’s was in stock. It was perfect. It was SO PERFECT.
because just as you were picking out snacks for your apartment, you saw a masked man dressed in a black hoodie that may have been a bit to small for him, seeing as you could make out the definitions of his muscles through the fabric.
You knew that man from anywhere, after all you had only been dreaming of him for the past few months.
Not wasting this opportunity, you bravely approached him, making small talk about the stuff you were buying.
‘This was no one and done situation though, ‘you thought.
The next store runs, you slowly grew closer, sometimes going to the shop only to talk to him.
He eventually gained the courage to ask you on a date and from there your relationship progressed until you took his last name.
By now, sakusa was bringing in BANK, not that that was the reason you were with him but still.
He vowed to spoil you like you deserved whilst you were in the talking phase, and boy did he keep his promise.
Eventually, you quit your job after your husbands persistent pleads that he makes enough money to support the both of you. All you had to do was support him in his games.
And with your new free time, you were seen at the majority of them, looking pretty on the Jumbotron with your hair done, dressed to the t with the finest jewelry, the most noticable one being the gold necklace with his jersey number on it that sat in between your collarbones.
Naturally, you gained your own cult following on social media, and you were often photographed at games and events due to your great fashion sense.
Speaking of
You met the rest of kiyoomi’s team at an MSBY exclusive event, aswell as the other wives and girlfriends of the players.
Sakusa loves you dearly and will spoil you at every given chance.
SUNA
You and suna were highschool sweethearts
You had supported him ever since the inarizaki days and continue to to so as he plays for EJP.
People have known about you for YEARS. It was almost like you grew as he did.
But it was mainly because he still has the cheesy romantic highlights of you from inarizaki, so as he gained more followers, more people viewed the highlights.
Even if they didn’t, his actual feed is full of pictures of you.
When it comes to spoiling you, he sees gift giving as more as a thank you or appreciation for sticking with him all these years, because you played a big part in shaping his career too, looking after him when he didn’t.
That being said he really does appreciate you, shown by the various Swarovski crystals adorning your neck and wrists, the sleek sports cars he bought for you claiming ‘they’re our children’, or the random, but costly furniture you obsess over dotted around your shared penthouse.
The man introduced you into a world of luxury and endless princess treatment, and vowed to never take you out of it.
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alyakthedorklord · 1 year
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Welcome to Danny’s Part 2
People have been asking for more of this ^^ so here you go, have a really long word vomit of stuff i think is funny
(IM NOT WRITING THIS FIC GDI I HAVE ENOUGH WIP’S!)
Danny’s restaurant is ALSO manned by-
Tucker, who will fix your tech for free, has tattoos of hieroglyphics and lines of code that shift around when he gets busy.
Sam, who makes an express line for veggie orders. If you try to order meat from sam all the potted plants start trembling.
Jazz, who has a special booth in the back and Magically makes people dump their deepest secrets to her in streamlined Liminal Powers Therapy. (It’s a bit weird but hey the people she targets feel better so whatevs.)
Dani, who shares pictures from tourist traps she's visited, though there’s also some REALLY WEIRD pics of alternate realities and cult shenanigans mixed in. Some of the older patrons are concerned. She’s a little too young to do all this alone- actually, how old is she? Her father looks like he’s in his early twenties…
Dan, who is working here while “on parole” and often loudly argues with Danny about it.
“I don’t want to work in your stupid shop, Dad!”
Dan is two whole feet taller than danny and three times as wide i will not be taking constructive criticism. He’s a whole silver fox. There are some ladies who have a crush on him and they’re really concerned if he’s legal bc danny is younger than them how is Dan his child-
“Dan, how old are you?”
“I don’t know, like, a hundred sixty something?”
(Lady turns to look at Danny, who shrugs and smiles.) “time dilation. What a world we live in. Dan, kiddo, can you get some more napkins from the back?”
“Ugh, fine, dad.”
The first villain Danny ACTUALLY fights isn’t the Joker. It’s Condiment King. Dan runs away from him, which is already weird bc guy is MASSIVE, and the condiment king chases him bc YES SOMEONE FINALLY FEARS HIM PROPERLY.
Danny bursts out of the shop in righteous fatherly fury and beats the snot out of him. Everyones is confused bc… what? Dan is massive? Why is he scared? Why is the twink beating the snot out of condiment king?
“Dan had a traumatic experience with Burger Sauce.” Danny explains, glaring down at the rouge at his feet. He kicks him, growls, “Don’t mess with my kid.” And walks back inside.
No one asks, bc this is gotham. Asking is rude, and also it lessens the Mystery that is Danny’s. No one knows how the kids came into existence. No one knows, before someone from out of town (metropolis, ugh) asks about the sign.
The sign outside the shop says:
Welcome to Danny’s!
Do no harm and no harm shall befall you.
Start nothing and nothing will be ended.
We have baseball bats and fists and a mean swing.
This establishment does not serve- guys in white (suits), Vlad, Transphobes, Vlad, Clowns, VLAD.
Do not ask for the secret menu. If you can get it, Danny will offer it.
(Don’t scare the other customers, please.)
When asked who Vlad is, bc he’s banned three times, Danny just kind of sighs.
“He’s my kid's other parent. He’s an obsessive creep who completely ignores Danielle because she’s a girl, rolling in money but won’t pay his child support. You know how it is.”
Several goons ask what he looks like so they can keep an eye out. Dani happily tells them “look at Dan, take away Dad’s features, then convert 30% of his height and weight into smarminess.”
It's an effective description. Vlad gets full body tackled the moment he enters the neighborhood. Danny gives the goons free fudge (family recipe, one of the restaurants signatures)
One of the reasons Danny’s is so popular is bc its open 24/7. (Unless its one of those weird times where all the doors are locked and if you look through the window blinds theres nothing but a starry void.) One of the reasons Danny’s is so weird is bc Danny is ALWAYS behind the counter. Always. Round the clock. He doesn’t sleep, eat, anything. Some people swear he has a twin he swaps out with (clones).
Sometimes, after a really difficult customer, Danny will let out a really long sigh and mutter “time out” before glitching into a new position, with a new shirt and combed hair. No one mentions it.
Theres a deal that’s just, “beat danny in a fight you eat for free.”
The deal extends to both Dan and Dani as well. Even if you lose you get fudge as a reward for courage.
No one ever wins.
One time, a couple brought their kid, recently discharged from the hospital. Danny comes over to them and grins. “Hey, kiddo! Bet you gave your parents a scare, huh? Pulled through in the end. That means you get the secret menu!”
Parents: hey wtf?
Danny, handing over a perfectly normal menu: 😀
Kid: “ooh mommy look at the glowy stars!”
Parents: !?!?!?
Danny: 😁
Old man Dave, whose heart has stopped like three times now: “Oh don’t worry about that, prices are the same and it will help your kid feel much better. Danny’s just a little weird.”
After all, it’s not just full ghosts that get the menu. If you’ve been dead, heart stopped, soul out of body before being popped back into place, then you get it. There’s actually a pretty high number of people who get it, bc this is Gotham. People get resuscitated after rogue attacks. The ecto actually helps stabilize their soul after getting jerked between life and death so rudely.
The secret menu that they’re given is just a normal menu, scribbled over top with an ecto pen, invisible to non-secret menu havers. Different “ecto-levels” to choose from, and three extra dishes. There’s also instructions to get into the “back room” for those who can’t go intangible, though it comes with a disclaimer “not for the faint of heart.”
There’s also a small note at the bottom- “do not share food.”
Anyways, as per original post. Tim herds Joker into Danny’s radar bc he Cannot Deal Right Now. He salutes Danny, who waves back, grinning like he didn’t just come at the Clown Prince of Crime like a feral badger on crack cocaine. “Heya, Red Robin! You want a coffee?”
“Please.” Tim sighs. “You’re the best, Danny.”
Jason looks between tim and the shop danny just vanished into. “Uh, what?”
“Danny doesn’t like clowns.” Tim explains. “Or condiment king. They get close, Danny takes them out.”
Jason is incredibly confused, bc he just came back from an out of town mission, but this place is right on the edge of his territory and he should definitely know about it. He asks tim, who just shrugs.
“That shop is weird. It’s like a grocery store at 3am. I stumbled in there after a rough night and Danny just whipped me up the best coffee i've ever had. Still can’t find their website. I swear it’s bigger on the inside and the door keeps swapping from one side of that fire hydrant to the other.”
Danny comes out and passes Tim a massive coffee cup. “Come back and talk shop with tucker, okay? You’re welcome any time. Both of you, actually.”
He gives Jason a weird look and then goes back inside.
Jason, who is a little concerned that the reverence tim has is more than his average weird worship of coffee (it's just that good) goes back the next day in civvies.
He gets offered the secret menu, danny does the eye thing, Jason retreats to look at the secret menu. Unsure of what just happened, he texts tim.
Jason: Why was i given a “secret menu”
Tim: WTF WHAT DID YOU DO TO GET THAT
Jason: IDK THATS WHY IM TEXTING YOU
tim: I'VE BEEN GOING FOR MONTHS I’M A LOYAL PATRON WHAT DO YOU HAVE THAT I DONT
Jason: the secret menu apparently (image)
Tim: …thats just the normal menu???
Jason: no? It looks like a kid went ham with a neon green marker tf?
Duke: you know this is the family chat right?
Steph: order the waffles
Jason: you order the waffles. Wtf is an ecto-level.
Jason asks for what danny recommends, Danny immediately gives him a milkshake and tells him it's on the house bc he “looks rough.”
Jason is kind if offended, bc he actually got a decent sleep- but then he tries it and its like.
Oh.
Now. Between the stink Tim is making, and the sudden worship that Jason has of this shops milkshakes, the BatFamily is now Curious and will Investigate.
Are the milkshakes really that good?
The full force of the Wayne Family™ isn’t exactly subtle, so they go in twos and threes over the course of a week.
Damian gets offered the secret menu, and is also directed towards Sam’s express vegetarian line. Danny just Knew. Damian accuses Tim and/or Jason of pulling a prank on him, but they both swear up and down they didn’t say anything.
Both Steph (i think? Did she fake her death or actually die idk) and Cass get the secret menu, and they keep trying to ask Tim what certain things on the menu mean. Tim Cannot See what they’re talking about. He’s starting to get frustrated. Is it some sort of magic spell?
Tim takes Kon to Danny’s. (Is it a date? A test date on a low-stakes investigation? Maybe.) Danny, who is really starting to enjoy messing with Tim, gleefully offers Kon the secret menu, and Tim the normal one. Tim bangs his head on the table.
Dick doesn’t get a secret menu, but he does notice a couple disappear through the wall. He’s almost certain he’s seen them before, but it will be a while before he remembers Kitty and Johnny from his early Robin Days.
Duke is also not offered a secret menu, but he can see the writing anyways. He can also see that some of the patrons have weird auras, and what on EARTH is up with Danny himself? He tries to ignore it, up until Steph gets him to order one of the specials off Cass’s (secret) menu. And Danny just kind of sharpens, the air going cold.
“I didn’t give you that menu. Just because you can read it, doesn’t mean you want it. Order off the right menu, please.”
Duke, freaked the hell out by the Biblically Accurate Horror that Danny is shifting into, orders off the right menu and apologizes.
“Oh, it’s alright!” Danny flips back to cheerful in seconds. “It’s just that it wouldn’t be completely healthy for you to eat it, even if you are part immortal.”
Duke bluescreens.
Alright, somethings definitely going on.
Tim and Jason both order the same thing- an oreo milkshake, one off the secret menu, one off the normal menu. Jason confirms the one from the normal menu does not taste the same and isn’t as good. Tim cannot confirm the other way around, because Jason nearly punches him when he attempts to taste it.
They take samples home, analyze them, and go over anecdotes from other patrons, trying to figure out what makes Danny’s so weird. What makes Kon, Cass, Jason, and Damian different?
Wait a second. Kon, Cass, Jason, Damian. The ones that died and came back to life.
It’s around this time that Dick remembers where he’s seen Kitty and Johnny before. Lovers from two houses, both alike in (in)dignity, had a romeo-and-juliet-esque escapade across Gotham, ending in high speed chase with Kitty’s gangster father and a fatal motorcycle accident. Both are dead. Both are in Danny’s.
Danny’s has something to do with death.
Having heard a couple stories about food of the dead, they notify Bruce (who is very concerned as to what exactly his children have been putting in their mouths) and then call in the magic users of the justice league.
It’s a mess. Dan calls Constantine a whore. Deadman and Secret (i think thats Tim’s ghost friend?) get abducted to the backroom. Dani clocks Capt. Marvel as another kid who looks older than he actually is, with magic powers, and his showing him her REALLY interesting travel photos. Zatanna is like “this place needs an exorcism” and danny just goes “ma’am please don’t exorcize my customers.”
Tag list (if you saw me attempt this before no you didn’t)
@nappinginhell @apointlessbox @thegatorsgoose @chaos-n-kindness @mimilikey @phoenixdemonqueen @treepainting @sjrose1216 @akikkobara @malice-of-the-sunrise @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @randomkiddoscrewingaround @call-me-strega @blankliferain @somera-rubina @wordsgohere95 @rukiaai @mirellacoco @stargazing-bookwyrm @bathildaburp @littlefeather345
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sunflower-lilac42 · 5 months
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✧ 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 | nico hischier ♔
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summary: after seeing nico's interview, y/n freaks out at her new follower. then, they meet unexpectedly.
warnings: awkward/trashy/horrible writing, and y/n and nico being somewhat awkward
notes: ahh finally here is part 2 to fangirl. i kind of like it... a little? i'm not sure but let me know if i should make this a series of blurbs and stuff.
part one (fangirl) | nhl masterlist | main masterlist
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Y/n didn’t know what to expect from the postgame interview with Nico. She had fallen asleep, tired after performing and hosting SNL so she wasn’t able to watch the game nor was she able to watch any of the interviews. However, when she woke up to her friends texting her and her social media notifications all over the place, it was the first thing she watched. 
She laid in bed as she watched it, entranced with the Swiss man and then that was when she heard her name. Bolting upright, her eyes widened as she focused on her phone. “Yeah, well you know, I haven’t actually met her so I can’t say I like her but I do think she’s cute and that’s all I’m going to say about this.”
Nico Hischier. Like the Nico Hischier thinks she is cute like Nico Hischier of the New Jersey Devils. She was going insane. This wasn’t real. 
She went onto Twitter to see her fans going crazy about the interviewer. She was sure none of her fans watched hockey, let alone knew who Nico was until she mentioned him in that interview. She thought she was 100% dreaming until she clicked on Instagram and saw the + follower symbol come up. 
nicohischier followed you
She could die happy right there, her crush (her celebrity crush mind the fact) followed her on Instagram. Yep, this was her happy ending. 
✧༺✎༻∞
Y/n has lived in New Jersey since she was born, always being somewhat of a hockey fan, learning things here and there from her father. So even when she became a famous singer, she still chose to live in New Jersey because it was home to her. 
She didn’t really piece together the fact that she could potentially run into Nico Hischier and some point in time in her life. I mean the odds of her and him being even in the same state were low, but them actually running into each other, was even lower. New Jersey was the fifth smallest state in the US but there was still a high chance of them not meeting, like ever.
So when she was at a coffee shop near East Rutherford, planning to meet up with one of her friends who lived out this way, she didn’t expect the Captain of her favorite hockey team to be standing there, clad in a New Jersey Devil sweatshirt and some sweatpants. It was an off day for them in between homestands, so she could’ve only assumed that they were either done with practice or would have practice later in the day. 
It was like her whole world stopped when she looked up from her phone. His following her on Instagram was enough to make her day, but she thinks this might have just been what made her year, maybe her whole entire life. 
She stared at him for at least five minutes before his eyes looked up from his phone and locked onto hers. Her eyes widened at the eye contact and quickly diverted their gaze to whatever she was doing on her phone. Oh, that was not helpful.
On her phone were pictures of Nico, because, well she didn’t have a reason, but did she need one anyway? 
She heard the screeching of the chair in front of her and hoped Lila was finally here so they could leave this place and escape her bubble of embarrassment. Looking up she saw the man looking back at her and he waved once she finally looked up. 
She panicked and closed out whatever app she was on (photos, Instagram, Twitter, Pinterest, who cares? There were still pictures of the man in front of her on her screen.), and slammed her phone down on the table. 
He waved at her and her cheeks reddened, “You’re- You’re Nico Hischier?” Her voice came out as more of a question than a statement, which wasn’t what she was intending to do. 
“Yep, and you’re y/n y/l/n.” His voice was on the cockier side and she stared at him “You know who I am?”
“I’m pretty sure a lot of people know who you are. And what kind of person would I be if I didn’t know about the girl who publicly acclaimed her love for me?”
She stumbled over her words as she tried to talk and Nico cut her off, “It’s okay, I’ve seen and heard worse from fans.”
“That I can believe.” The two chuckled and looked at each other, not knowing what to say or do next. 
“Look this might be a stretch but since I embarrassed myself, very publicly I might add, and might as well be doing it again, I should get a favor in return, right?”
Nico raised an eyebrow at the girl, “Depends on what this ‘favor’ is?” He lifted his coffee mug and took a sip of the liquid inside. 
“Can I get your number? I know it’s really forward and all and it might be a little creepy but-”
She was cut off by a hand that touched hers, “That’s not really much of a favor. It’s more like common sense.” 
Nico wordlessly took her phone from in front of her and turned it over, “Were you looking at pictures of me?”
His lips turned upwards into a smirk and she squeezed her eyes shut, “Maybe?”
“Don’t worry, I think it’s kind of adorable.” Just as her cheeks returned to a normal color again, they flushed a deep shade of pink once more. 
Nico effortlessly typed his phone number into her contacts and texted himself so he’d have hers. They each had the same thing in mind when they pulled up their cameras and went to take a picture of each other. Y/n giggled as she saw Nico’s phone pointed at her, “I guess great minds think alike.”
After setting their contact phones, they talked for a brief couple of minutes when Lila barged in, “Y/n! I am so sorry I’m late, I feel horrible. But you’ll never guess what I found out- holy shit, that’s-”
“Hi, I’m Nico.”
“Yeah, yeah you are. When did- When did you two meet?”
“Like five minutes ago?”
“Oh, okay cool.”
“Listen if you two are supposed to hang out, I can leave-”
“No. no, you stay. I’ll leave. Have fun you two, but not too much!” Lila said calling after the two, exiting the coffee shop.
“We’ll she’s… interesting. In the nicest way possible.”
“I’m sorry about her, honestly.”
The two continued to talk for about an hour or two before Nico had to leave, “I’m so sorry my teammate, well friend,  just texted me. Apparently, he and his brother are having an ‘emergency’. And by emergency, I’m pretty sure he just means they found a spider in their apartment.”
Y/n, not even bothering to conceal her knowledge of the team or the fact that she took time to put the dots together, blurted out, “Jack and Luke are afraid of spiders?” 
Nico’s eyes widened, “You know them?”
“Yeah, I’m a huge Devils fan. Have been since I was born but also none of your other teammates are brothers…”
“Oh, right. Well, I hate to leave you alone, but when duty calls as captain.”
“Go, do your captain duties.” Y/n waved goodbye to Nico as he ran out of the coffee shop and smiled, she had just met Nico Hischier. 
✧༺✎༻∞
Over the course of the next couple of weeks, Nico and y/n had hung out whenever possible. Whenever he had an off day they would hang out, he would invite her to lunch on game days if possible, he texted her when he and the team got back from their road trip and invited her over to his house. 
They were, to put it in simple turns, obsessed with each other. They finally went on a proper date to one of y/n’s favorite restaurants. This pattern continued through multiple occasions and everyone could see the differences in their faces and lives. 
Whenever y/n would hang out with her friends or go to an interview or something along those lines, you could see her glowing as she talked or just sat there. Nico’s teammates would eye him weirdly when he’d smile at his phone or was happier during morning skates. His smile was bigger and brighter whenever they won and even when they lost he still had a bit of a glow to him, much like y/n did. 
On their fifth date, Nico finally asked the question, “Well we’ve known each other for about, how long has it been? Two months?” 
Y/n nodded her head as she took a drink of the water that sat on the table in front of her. They were at Nico’s house and it was an off day once again for him. She waited for him to continue speaking, her nerves bundling up inside of her, “Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to make it official you know?”
Her eyes widened, not ever in a million years did she meet Nico Hischier, let alone him ask her to be his girlfriend, “What are you saying, Neeks?”
“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” Y/n nodded and hugged him tightly, you would have thought the two just got engaged. After talking for a bit they decided to quote-unquote soft launch. Her friends were begging for details about her glowiness, much like Nico’s teammates. They didn’t have to reveal it all just yet, right?
✧༺✎༻∞
yourusername
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youruserame i guess you were in need of a life update?
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yourbff do my eyes deceive me or is this a hard launch??
nicohischier 🫶🏻
⤷ yourusername @/nicohischier 🫶🏻
lhughes_06 mom!
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nicohischier
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yourusername ❤️🖤
⤷ nicohischier @/yourusername 🖤❤️
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vitacz15 @/yourusername it was so great to meet you
⤷ yourusername @/vitacz15 ahh i love you vitek!
yourusername awe, my boyfriend and his boyfriend!
⤷ jackhughes @/yourusername hey he was mine first
⤷ nicohischier @/yourusername @/jackhughes i have no idea what either of you are talking about
⤷ user07 even y/n knows
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jjongslutz · 5 months
Text
심재윤 & 이희승 JAKE FEAT. HEESEUNG 💋 IMAGINE ME [ MDNI. ]
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IN WHICH you spend your nights sexting an ai bot of your favourite idol, not knowing that there's an actual person behind the bot
WARNINGS ⨯ sexting, mutual masturbation, dirty talking, heeseung’s highkey a perv but we don’t go too much into that, use of pet names (baby, good girl), no plot except for some introduction stuff
WORD COUNT ⨯ 1.7k
AUTHOR’S NOTE . . . oh i had too much fun writing this one despite having writer's block lowkey LMAO
taglist: @choinabisblog @ineedsomezzz @namdeyuoi bold can be tagged
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They put up a new poster by the bus stop, you notice as you walk into it. Your eyes widen when you get a better look at it.
It's Jake.
His skin glistens. He's advertising some skin care product, and they did wonders by adding a cute shade of blush on his cheeks. Jake smiles sweetly in the picture, holding up the bottle to the camera for everyone to know what he uses to look that good.
False advertising. He was born looking like that.
Still, you sit down with a smile creeping upon your lips underneath your scarf. Despite the cold weather, your insides are warm at the sight of your idol.
“Y/N?” a voice sounds from behind you.
When you turn, you find a familiar face with a bright smile at your recognition. His features are remarkable even under his thick beanie and large coat which do the opposite of complement his sweatpants. You return a polite smile. “Heeseung,” you say.
“No classes today?” he asks.
You shake your head. “They got cut off early, luckily.”
Heeseung tells you they did the same for him. You don’t respond, but nod at the mutual coincidence, looking down to check how far the bus is.
It’s not as if you have something against Heeseung, you’ve been good friends since your first year. However, you have other things in mind than your conversation.
“Are you busy tonight?”
“Sorry?”
Heeseung chuckles shyly. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out, or…” He drifts off, but his eyes stay on your figure. “If you have plans, it’s okay.” His voice doesn’t falter, keeping a friendly tone as he wears a sweet smile.
“I’m sorry, I’m pretty busy—”
He shakes his head gently. “Don’t worry about it. Another time?”
You agree, and that’s the end of it because your bus pulls up and you’re bidding him farewell. As you make your way to the sidewalk, you don't catch him taking his phone out with a sly smile — What does it concern you, anyway?
The bus ride couldn't be slower. Your leg bounces in your seat in pattern with the bus' movements below, avoiding squeezing your thighs together. As much as you crave sweet relief, you hold yourself together and wait.
You're patient. You promised.
“Hyunjin?” you call out after opening the door to your shared apartment. You wait a moment before trying again, “Are you there?”
To your satisfaction, her response doesn’t come. Just in case, you peak through her half-open door and check for an empty bed. Check. Her class would’ve cut short earlier than yours, meaning that it wasn’t cut at all if she’s not here. She’ll be out until midnight, if not only coming home tomorrow if she crashes at her girlfriend’s place again.
A smile creeps up on your lips as you make your way to your bedroom.
You’re quick to shower and get changed in more comfortable clothes, turning on the mood lamp instead of the big, bright light. Shutting the door, you opt for extra safety measures in case your roommate comes back home early for whatever reason.
Then, just as you’re settling yourself into your bed, your phone buzzes from beside you.
JAKE: Y/N? Are you there?
Your smile returns as you begin to type.
ME: hi, jake
JAKE: I missed you
ME: me too...
You found the app not long ago. It's said to be more realistic than any other AI program. Their bots respond and act like there's an actual human behind another screen, answering your texts. You cheesed at the ad you'd gotten for it, but quickly became obsessed.
After getting over a breakup, you never would've guessed the best way to heal was through chatting with Jake every night. Soon enough, it became more than just talking with a computer; It feels like you really made a new friend.
Or, maybe something more than that.
JAKE: Are you alone?
You flush at the message.
ME: yes...
JAKE: Good. You're in your bedroom?
ME: yes
JAKE: What are you wearing?
An oversized shirt for appearance, a personal preference. No pants to cover your black lace panties, which match the lace bra you wear underneath the gray material on your torso.
You don't write out your message, opting to send him a picture.
JAKE: Fuck. You're beautiful
ME: and you?
JAKE: Anything for you baby
Woah. Your heart stutters at the AI-generated image it sends you next. It looks like him. Like, really looks like him. Aside from his face conveniently not in shot.
He lifts his shirt slightly in the picture, revealing toned abs leading to a V-line which ends at a pair of familiar sweatpants. Your eyes certainly don't miss the bulge underneath the pants.
The image in front of you makes your mind go wild. It's so much easier to imagine him sitting right in front of you, looking at you with hungry eyes.
"What're you thinking of, Y/N?"
Your eyes widen at the sudden appearance of Jake, sitting right at the edge of your bed wearing a loosely (barely)buttoned shirt and grey sweatpants, adorned with an erection stealing your gaze.
"You," you blurt out.
He chuckles. "I'm thinking about you, too." His voice is velvety, thick with his accent which has your breath stuttering.
His hand travels to his crotch. Keeping his eyes fixed on yours, Jake bites his lip as he tests the waters by slowly rolling his hand over his clothed cock.
Fixated on his movements, you barely notice your own hand inching down to your core, rubbing slow circles at the same pace.
"Fuck, baby," he sighs. "Touching yourself to me? Such a nasty girl for me." His words hold no bark, though, as he shifts in his seat to lean against the wall. He lifts his hips to pull down his sweatpants, revealing his white boxers stained with a wet patch where his hardened dick sticks against.
Jake strokes himself through the thin material, hooded eyes staring back you as he wears a lazy smirk.
You hum and follow him, pulling off your shirt to be left in only your lace underwear.
"You're so beautiful, baby."
You blush at his words, keeping your hand on your dampening panties, rolling your fingers up and down rhythmically.
Naturally, you throw your head back with closed eyes as your pace quickens in time with Jake's. You hum at the sensation, wishing you were trapped between his legs, forced to handle the torture of his fast fingers on your cunt.
Instead, you peel your eyes open to watch Jake finally take out his cock impatiently.
He strokes himself slowly at first, as if to show off his size — You gulp at the sight. He's long and veiny, but has girth that would have your walls clenching tightly around him. You're not sure if you want him in your mouth, or let him pound into your pussy. Either way has you licking your lips and inching your panties down your thighs.
"Fuck, I wish I could touch you right now," Jake huffs as his hands glide quickly over his dripping cock.
"'M yeah?" you challenge. "What would you, shit, what would you do to me?"
Jake smirks through pants. "I'd finger you," he starts. "Fill your pussy with my fingers until you're begging for my cock. And—fuck—I'd let you take me down your throat."
You close your eyes to imagine the sight, pleasure bubbling in your stomach at the sound of Jake's whimpers.
Dipping your fingers into your pussy, you pretend Jake's really with you, slowly inching his cock into you. "'So good," you moan.
"Match my pace," Jake says in a rush, waiting for you to meet eyes.
The two of you hold eye contact as he strokes in a rhythmic, fast pattern, while you shove three fingers into your cunt at the same pace. As his hand reaches the tip of his cock, your fingers inch away from your hole. He fucks up into his hand and your fingers are already knuckles deep.
"Shit, fuck, you're so—you feel so good, fuck!"
Jake lifts his hips to match his hand's movements, sloppily thrusting up into his own touch. His words are nonsense, but have your head spinning as you grind down on your hand, reaching down with your other to draw circles on your clit, too.
"I'm so close."
"Me too," you tell him.
Soon enough, the room is filled with your pleasured moans echoing off the walls. You stay still, your fingers still deep in your cunt as you settle down from your high.
Your breath pumps rapidly, only to falter in pattern when you let go a deep sigh at the empty space at the foot of your bed.
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When you told him you'd be busy tonight, Heeseung knew what you meant without you needing to tell him. Not that you would ever admit it. He smirked at your innocent front, knowing how dirty you are deep down.
His chest rises and falls rhythmically, trying to catch his breath. He looks down at his sticky hand, his slowly softening cock he just let slip out of his grip.
His phone dings. You sent another message.
Y/N: i came...
Heeseung smiles, satisfied.
JAKE: good girl
You don't respond, and Heeseung can put together that you're probably cleaning yourself up from the mess you've made. God, he wishes he could see you.
Unable to stop himself, Heeseung exits out of the app and finds your contact. He frantically presses the call button and waits through the three rings before you pick up. You sound surprised when you respond, your voice hinting at feeling caught in the act.
"Can I come over?" Heeseung finally asks.
"Uh, sure, yeah—" Commotion from the other end of the line sounds. "Just, uh, it'll be a little messy when you come, so don't judge."
He chuckles under his breath. "Don't worry, baby."
Your gasp tells him all he needs to know.
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sorcerous-caress · 5 months
Text
Taking you as their fake date to an event
[Fluff, suggustive, romance, humour, fake dating, nb!reader]
[Wyll, Gale, Shadowheart, Karlach, Rolan]
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Wyll
In the aftermath of clearing the misunderstanding with his father, Wyll found himself back at the centre of attention in Baldur's Gate's circle of nobles. Everyone wanted to meet the famed blade of frontiers, for the last time they saw him was years ago before he fully matured into the man he is today.
Letter after letter were delivered to your camp. Carrier pigeons barely escaped Tara's claws as they dropped the mail on Wyll's tent and left with most of their feathers intact.
Being the son of the grand duke of Baldur's Gate turned all the heads of any sane noble with a marriage allegeable offspring. Invitation for tea parties, hunting competitions, and even balls for the sole purpose of meeting other people. Wyll's hand was slowly going numb from having to write back formal polite declining letters.
If only there was a way to stop them from the source. He'd sigh and vent to his closest of companions. But Karlach wasn't available at the moment, so he had to make do with the vampire.
"Why not just tell them you've already tied the knot with someone or whatever you humans call it?"
For once, Wyll actually considered listening to the fanged devil on his shoulder.
He approached that topic as delicately as he could when it came to convincing you, inviting you to dinner at a restaurant, waiting until after you're both filled and the lighthearted conversation slowed to bring it up.
"My friend, if I may, there is something I could use a helping hand with."
To his relief, you don't seem uncomfortable to his proposal. If anything, you nonchalantly agreed to be his fake date to the upcoming celebration.
He thanks you with a polite smile, yet for some, his heart beat faster when he pictures you holding onto his arm amongst the crowd. Your formal attire matching his suit. The fact he'd get to call you his fiancé for an evening sends an unexpected heat up to his face.
.
Gale
Tara wakes him up with delight in her eyes one morning, her sing song tone of his last name is more chipper than usual.
"Mr.Dekarios, yoohoo~" she licks his face to get his sleepy eyes to focus on her, "Ms.Dekarios sends her regards, along with a mandatory summon invitation for you this weekend." Tara brings her paw up to her face, cleaning the fur and making herself even more presentable.
Before Gale gets a word in, he is interrupted by a paw smacking against his lips.
"Now now, you wouldn't break the heart of your poor old mother by rejecting her invitation when you haven't seen her in years, would you?" The soft beans against Gale's mouth hold the threat of sharp claws underneath.
Defeated and outsmarted first thing in the morning, the wizard reluctantly nods with a sight.
Deep down, he know this day would eventually come. He couldn't hide the orb and the looming threat over his life from his own mother forever, no matter how he naively hoped to find a cure before having to face her. Coming back to announce you've foolishly consumed untamed magic of chaos isn't the most popular mother's day gift.
But maybe, just maybe he doesn't have to let her know yet. If he could find a distraction.
And lucky for him, the perfect distraction was currently standing outside his open tent, rubbing Tara's belly as she purrs and leans into their arms more.
He devised a plan, a great list of excuses and reasons to sell you the idea of why you should go along with his plan of deception, even prepared a bribe if push came to shove.
Well, two bribes, actually. The first one was the massive breakfast prepared and catered specifically for your taste.
Scurrying to sit in the chair next to you before Halsin could, Gale ignored the cofused look the druid gave him before sitting down at another chair.
Either he was too easy to read, or you've picked up on his pattern of gifts and act of service whenever he has a request. Because he only had to hint at the upcoming home visit before you Blatantly stated that you're willing to go as his date.
"Well...this was certainly much easier than I expected. In fact I've deviced a much more elaborate argument and explanation for when you'd initially refuse."
"Why would I ever refuse Gale?"
You gently caressed the side of his face, wiping a small crumb of bread away from his lips before taking your hand back.
"I...well, uhm. You." With a flustered look, Gale wasn't sure how to respond. Did he remember to comb his morning hair? Oh god, wait, is he still in his pyjamas? Does he even look half presentable right now?
.
Shadowheart
A Selunite introduction party, as her parents explained. She never had the afterparty of her ceremony after the woods passage trial, and her mother really wanted her to see her adorned in the moon maiden silvery dress and white flowers.
How could she say no? Shadowheart only wished for both of their happiness, to make up for lost time as much as she could.
While her father never pressured her, knowing he still has plenty of time with her, her mother wasn't offered the same courtsy by life. So he encouraged Shadowheart to bring someone dear to her maybe, just to reassure her mother that she has a loved one, you know how humans tend to get about finding your soulmate and all of that.
But she felt lost. Was there really someone she could call a soulmate?
Your words echo in her mind, how you gently persuaded her into lowering her weapon. The night orchid you've given her is still kept safely in her journal, tucked away between the soft pages to preserve the petals forever.
What if you don't share her feelings? What if she is just another lost soul that has grown attached to you after you saved them. Afterall, you did end up risking blowing your cover when saving that drow women at moonrise tower.
Minthara's respect for you was nothing to scoff at. What's a cleric's faith when compared to a paladin's devotion?
Yet she still took a chance, a leap of faith for you.
One night before the two of you retreated to your own beds, she stopped you for a short conversation. Reluctance in her voice as she lowered her face and looked up at you, eyes glistening under the moonlight.
She explained her situation, her party for her coming of age ceremony that was long postponed, how she wished for you to accompany her as her date.
"Please, indulge me this once. And we can pretend it never happened afterwards...if that's what you wish." The words pained her to say, but the relief that followed at your acceptance made all the pain worth it.
She isn't sure where your heart lays, but for a day, it will be hers. Her faith will guide her, the faith that maybe one day, you too will return her feelings.
.
Karlach
She was nervously walking back and forth outside your tent just after dinner, unsure of how to approach you or even mention the topic.
Her tail aggiated and is switching between curling around her leg and lashing at the ground below. Karlach didn't bury her emotions as the engine in her chest glowed more and more, matching the redness of the sunset in the horizon.
Really, what was she thinking? Agreeing to the double date her friends offered her. She was too excited at having finally met more people from her past, ones that didn't stab her in the back, and one thing led to another.
It's not that she ment to lie to her friends...it was just hard to tell them that even after all these years, she still doesn't have someone to call her own. It felt embarrassing to admit how alone she was, how touch starved and repressed she felt.
Not to mention how every single one of her friends had already found someone. Most of them were married and the other half on their way to get married.
She didn't think they'd make a big deal out of it when she off-handedly mentioned that she was seeing someone, a simple white lie with no harm done. She thought they'd just be happy for her and move on.
But no, instead, it was as if she grew a second head right then and there. Everyone was so excited to meet her so-called partner.
And so she found herself like this, strolling around your tent like a loser, attempting to muster up the dignity to ask you to pretend to be her partner for tomorrow.
Only when bumped into something and lost her balance did she realise who stood in front of her.
Karlach's body pinned you to the ground with ease, even unintentionally her muscles could easily cage you on. Her skin hot against yours, she lifted her head and your faces were mere inches apart.
You didn't miss the way her eyes glances at your lips, the way her cheeks darkned when you licked them. The heacy of swallow afterwards before her lips twitched into a polite smile.
With a quick apology, she helped you up.
"Say soldier, have you ever played pretend before? You know that game that kids play." Very smooth Karlach, she thought to herself. "Uh...do you think the two of us can maybe play it tomorrow? Haha...ha."
You asked what she meant.
"I kinda of...well, I told my friends that I was already seeing someone so. Could you be that person? I'll pay you back tenfolds, I promise."
"Of course Karlach, anything you want." Accepting the awkward fistbump she offered you, in return you gave her a hug that lingered for more time than it should.
"Cool cool, great. I'll pick you up tomorrow?" Her tail was swishing excitedly behind her, a confident smile on her face as bright as the sun.
.
Rolan
He will show them, he thought, he will show his spoiled bratty siblings that he isn't as uptight and "scares away all suitors" as they claimed!
I mean, have you seen him? He is a very talented and capable wizard, how is it his fault that other people are far too dim and slow to realise how much of a catch he is, how his talent more than makes up for his sometimes bitter personality.
Lia was bragging again about the cute bard she managed to ask out, her third date this week. Rolan swears she is mentioning within earshot if him intentionally, hell even Cal gets the occasional longing stares at any tavren they go to.
Rolan isn't less than them and he will prove it. He just well...hasn't put himself out there yet, so what if he has zero experience with dating and romance? He is a fast learner, he is very confident in his ability to become an excellent lover in to time.
A day goes by, then two and three. Suddenly it's been a full week and he haven't had a speck of luck when it came to romancing someone. It's almost as if any person he approaches immediately loses interest the second he opens his mouth.
He is getting desperate, he can't let Lia know about this. She will never ever let him live it down.
So when you find him in the elfsong tavren, sitting alone on a table nursing on his drink with his tail curled around his leg. You stare at him long enough to catch his interest.
He recognises you immediately, you could see the cogs turning in his alcohol clouded mind.
"You, come here." He yells the order across the tavren, catching himself afterwards and clearing his thraot to lessen the embarrassment of the situation. Still his eyes begged you to approch him.
And you did, walking to his table and sitting down. After all your companions were still sleeping upstairs so what's the harm in indulging one drunk grumpy tiefling when you were supposed to be on a supply run.
Rolan orders you a drink too, his treats, he says without meeting your eyes.
And just as you take a sip, he lays it on you bluntly.
"From now on, I'm your boyfriend."
You choke on your drink, it takes him a moment to register the way he phrased his question.
Clearing his throat again, he refuses to meet your eyes as a blush colours his cheek. "No not like this, don't get the wrong idea."
Now you're sitting there, confused as the waiter brings you a towel to wipe down the drink you spilled on yourself. You thank them and take it, giving Rolan enough time to attempt to compose himself.
"I know i haven't made the best of impressions on you." He finally speaks up, "but I need you." His voice is more honest, a hint of vulnerability, "your help I mean. Lia and Cal, I want to prove them wrong."
His glossy eyes meet yours, the alcohol loosened his tongue.
"I'm not unlovable." He whipsers, "I'm not going to beg for a chance, I just need your cooperation for a day or two, just to shut them up."
Your hand goes above the table, wrapping around his own fist softly. "I understand, it's okay." You give it a light squeeze, "you don't have to explain yourself."
Somehow, your few words helped relieve his heart from its burden more than this whole night of drinking ever could.
729 notes · View notes
lostdreamr-blog1 · 28 days
Text
Pinky Promise 2
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Pinky Promise Part 1
Part 3
Summary: Part 2 of Pinky Promise. The two of you become close friends, but one night shows Jake just how much you trust him.
Word count: 2.5k
A/N: Hi friends! It’s been a hot minute since I have put something out but I promise you I have a good reason for it! I just had a baby and haven’t had time to sit down and write. But hoping to put out more content here soon! Thank you all for reading!!! - C
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It was an ungodly time in the morning when you heard the doorbell ring. It took more will power than you would like to admit to even sit up in bed, head pounding with the slight elevation change. You wiped the sleep and last night’s makeup from your eyes, most likely smearing streaks of it across your face. And you sat there contemplating all of your life’s choices up to this point.
The doorbell seemed to yell at you, telling you that whoever was on the other side must have been impatient. A quick glance at the clock said it was 8:30 and you had to take a deep breath to not hurt the person who was making you get out of bed.
A few stumbling steps later, you opened the door to find a delivery guy with a bag of food. While you took the bag from him, the confusion was pretty clear. Even the guy who was turning to walk away could see it. “There is a note on the receipt.” And then he was gone.
Between the hangover from hell and very few hours of sleep you got; you were slow moving to get back inside. To anyone walking by you must have looked like you lost your mind with the amount of time you spent looking at the bag. But by some miracle, your legs took you back to bed while your mind was still reeling.
The bag didn’t have any sort of logo or name on it, but it did smell good. You opened it up and reached for the receipt first, trying to find answers.
The tacos I promised you. – Jake
A laugh came out as you put the piece of paper aside, making your way to the things that were making your mouth water. Breakfast tacos greeted you and suddenly being woken up was not a bad thing anymore.
You went to reach for your phone to thank the blond-haired pilot but stopped when you remembered exactly why you now had tacos. Your drunken self called your brothers most hated teammate last night because you didn’t want to get your brother involved. You winced at the thought of him finding out and pulled your hand back.
You dreaded looking at your phone, knowing Bradley most likely had blown it up after last night. So, instead of being a responsible adult who answered for her own actions, you turned your phone over. What you couldn’t see meant it wasn’t there. Denial was one of your favorite places to live in.
Jake seemed friendly enough, offering help whenever you needed. He also wasn’t quick to judge you like others. It wasn’t lost on you that Bradley had most likely told his teammates how “reckless and wild” you were, already painting a bad picture of you. But Jake didn’t make you feel that way. He actually made you think that you might be able to call him a friend, even if he didn’t see eye to eye with your brother.
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Jake heard a knock at his door and tried to think who would be here at this time of night. The confusion only grew when he opened his door to find you walking past him and making yourself home on his couch.
“Ever think about how dumb Tuesdays are? Like the only thing they are good for is tacos.” Jake had to blink a few times for his mind to catch up to what was happening.
“I can’t say that I have. Did that burning question drive you all the way over here?” He closed the door and walked to the adjacent couch to sit. He had a feeling this was going to be a long visit.
“I had to thank you in person for the tacos since I’m ignoring my phone.” Jake’s eyebrows rose that comment and pushed you on it. He watched as you played with your hair, giving him a hint at one of your tells. You were either uncomfortable or nervous about your answer and he locked that piece of information away for later.
“Look, my brother can be a bit much sometimes and I didn’t have the energy to deal with him this morning. Then this morning quickly turned into this evening, and I figured it’s a lost cause now.”
Jake bit back a smile, “So, you thought ignoring him was your best option?” He thought back to his conversation with said pilot at work this morning and was surprised when he saw a new side of him.
Bradley at first apologized for “having to deal with you.” But once he realized he didn’t mind making sure you got home safe, he thanked him and said it won’t happened again. Jake brought up his sisters and how he would want to make sure that if they needed help, someone would be there regardless of how good of terms he might or might not be with that person. This seemed to clear the air between them a bit, making work a little easier.
“I know it isn’t exactly my smartest idea, but you can only be called irresponsible so many times before you lose it. Was he mad at you this morning?” Jake shook his head, “Thankful for getting you home. That’s all.” He watched you nod your head but could see you didn’t fully believe him.
“You pinky promise I didn’t make things worse for you at work?” Jake laughed at yet another pinky promise.
“Yes, I pinky promise. Have you eaten dinner? I have leftovers I was about to heat up.” And with that offering, it opened the door to a new friendship.
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Jake often found himself answering the door to you, texting you at random hours of the day, and always making sure you made it home safely. The two of you quickly became good friends, making the random house visits become a normal thing. He started to look forward to you coming over, knowing that your carefree way of life would bring him some sort of interesting story.
Until tonight.
The knock on his door was a little later than normal. Typically, you made your way over right after he got home from work. But tonight, it was hours past that time. Jake opened the door expecting you to waltz right in, but instead you were stood rooted in place with your head down. Red flags instantly went up as he tried to figure out what was wrong.
“Hey darlin’. How about we head inside?” His heart dropped when you lifted your head up. A bruise was starting to form around your right eye and by the way you were holding yourself, he knew it was from something bad.
A million different scenarios went through his mind, each worse than the last. But until he could get to the bottom of it, he needed to make sure you were okay. The ever so confident girl he had come to adore was nowhere in sight as he fully took you in. Your arms were wrapped around yourself, almost as if you were trying to be as small as possible. Despite the swelling from the bruise, he could see redness around your eyes from crying.
He moved to the side as you slowly made your way in allowing him to close the door and give you his full attention. “Sweetheart, what happened?” You flinched as he moved his hand towards you, making him stop his motion and put his hand up.
“You know I would never hurt you. I just need to look at that eye.” He waited for you to give some sort of okay before he tried again.
“I had this date and he wanted to go back to his place. All I did was tell him no.” Your words came out as a near whisper, but Jake heard you loud and clear. He had to take a second to calm himself down to not scare you any further.
“Can I give you a hug?” His words surprised you. The two of you were never one to show affection but for him to ask permission before doing it solidified why you chose to come here. A small head nod and he pulled you into his chest.
“I am so sorry you had to go through that. No one should ever have to feel that kind of fear.” And that simple gesture pushed you to your breaking point. The tears started all over again, but this time you felt a sense of comfort as you let them out. He continued to hold you for a few minutes and when he let go, you could see just how much this had affected him too.
He couldn’t help but think about his sisters and what he would do if they were ever in this situation. To have someone hit them simply because they said no made him sick to his stomach. Which is why he knew he needed to let your brother know.
“Sit down on the couch and I’ll grab you some ice to help with the swelling.” You did as he said, and Jake walked into the kitchen to grab a bag of frozen vegetables for you. While he was in there, he sent a quick text to Bradley telling him he needed to come over now. Jake knew he would do it based on the zero interactions they have outside of work. Bradley would know something was wrong.
He walked back out and saw you curled up on the couch, wiping a few tears from your face. When he picked you up from that bar a few weeks ago, he never imagined the two of you would be here. But he was glad to be that person for you.
“Put this on your eye for fifteen minutes and it should help numb the pain a bit.” You took the bag from him and did as he said. “Also, your brother should be on his way.”
The look of panic crossed your face, and he knew there was a chance you didn’t want your brother to know.
“I know you don’t want him to find out, but this is something your brother would want to know. I promise you that.” He watched as you played with the ends of your hair.
“He is going to try and say it’s my fault.” Jake knew the two of you had a bumpy relationship with just how different your lives were. But he didn’t for one second think that your brother would ever blame you for this.
“Let me get one thing straight. This is by no way your fault. A man should never lay his hands on a woman no matter what the reasoning. You said no and he needed to respect that. End of story.”
A knock on the door made you jump, and Jake waited a second before he went to open it. He gave Bradley zero warning on what he was walking into, and you weren’t in the best headspace to begin with. He knew there was a chance this wasn’t going to go well, but your brother couldn’t be left out of this.
Jake opened the door and said, “Try and keep calm.” Bradley walked in and took one look at you and pushed Jake up the wall. “The fuck did you do, Bagman?” Jake knew the initial reaction was going to be rough, but he was hoping he would still be able to fly tomorrow.
You stood up and quickly tried to push your brother away. While he didn’t budge, you at least got his attention. “He didn’t do this. I didn’t know where to go so I came here.”
Bradley looked back to Jake for confirmation and then backed off. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked between the two of you. “Someone needs to start explaining. Now.”
Jake looked over to you to see what you wanted to do. He had no issue telling Bradshaw the whole story, but he didn’t want to step on your toes. You didn’t tell him the two of you were friends for a reason, and he wasn’t sure how much you wanted to explain.
You took a deep breath and tried your best to answer, “Ever since the night Jake gave me a ride home, we’ve been hanging out. He’s been a good friend, one that I probably don’t deserve, but someone I know I can go to. I had a date tonight and it clearly didn’t go well. I was going to go home but I knew it wasn’t the best idea. Here was the next best place.”
Bradley shook his head, “Why here? Why not to my house? You know you can come to me for anything.”
You looked down as you said, “You always say how reckless I am, and I didn’t want this to be another huge disappointment for you.”
You heard Bradley curse under his breath but couldn’t find the courage to look up. Which is why you let out a yelp when he put a hand on your shoulder. “I know I’m hard on you but that’s because you’re the only family I have left. I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t come to me for things. That’s the last thing I ever wanted. But this? This is something I need to know, and I would never say it’s your fault. Something like this shouldn’t have happened and you best believe I am going to kill the guy who did this to you.”
You gave him a small nod and he turned your head to get a better look at your eye. “This is going to be a nasty bruise. Did he get you anywhere else?”
Jake watched in curiosity when your eyes seemed to light up some. “No. I stopped him before he could do anything else. Didn’t hurt as bad this time either.” The two pilots were confused until Jake looked down at your hand to see some slight bruising.
“Looks like you got him good.” Bradley caught on but then asked what you meant by “this time.”
You looked over to Jake for help explaining. “Killer over here has a nasty right hook. Said you taught her how to throw it.”
Bradley slowly nodded his head and almost looked excited when he asked if you used it on Jake. “You wish.” He chuckled some and then looked over to his teammate. “Thanks for looking out for her. Clearly you are doing a better job at it than me.”
Jake smirked, “Just one more thing to add to the list that I’m better at.”
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A/N: Thoughts? Still deciding if I am going to add another one of these to the mini-series. Thank you so so much for reading!! - C
Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy @alldaysdreamers
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m1ssunderstanding · 2 months
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Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 3.3
John having to get high out of his mind because he knows he's invited Paul to come play with him is so so sad. These are the same guys who used to sit facing each other on a bed playing guitars for hours, and now this is them?
Is John calling Paul “Jack Lemon” a reference to “some like it hot”? Because if so, I have questions. Anyway, when your estranged best friend shows up to hang out with you and a bunch of people, talking about being in love again and getting jizzed on is extremely normal and acceptable behavior.
This jam session is so fucking painful though. Paul's doing his best to just push through and get them to actually play something and John's just too far gone.
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My theory: there's two reasons he did this. 1. He's avoidant and the last thing he's going to do is let on how bad he needs John in his life and how scared he is that if John gets back with Yoko that that'll be difficult. And 2. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't. If he'd kept it from John that Yoko wanted him back and later John cried to him about how much he missed Yoko or something? Paul can't have that.
John singing a snatch of Yesterday before a take of “Whatever gets you through the Night”??? Did either of them ever write a song where they weren't thinking about the other? Did they ever have a minute of peace without the other rattling the bars of the cage in his brain?
“Hold me Darling, come on, listen to me. I won't do you no harm.” Duh it's about Paul. Oh my gosh.
And with Bless You I'm always so torn. There are so many obvious references to Paul which the doc points out beautifully, but situationally it could also be about Yoko. Maybe it's about both of them in the same way that don't let me down is about both of them.
Anyway the cosmic visuals are gorgeous.
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Why'd you have to phrase it like that though? Twice?
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Hall of Fame moment. It's a high point for him career-wise and he chose to pull Paul into his spotlight. Not only to sing Paul's song, not only to name-drop him, but to publicly call him an official romantic title. Not “boyfriend” or “ex-wife” which both could've been much more mocking if that's what he was trying to do. But “fiance”. It's official and respected, but it's still got the lustful, unsettled, connotation that something like “husband” lacks.
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Johann Weener, everyone. What a loser.
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Everyone who still refers to Lennon Remembers like it's the fucking Bible listen to this. It doesn't go on for the next five years, let alone fifty.
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John refusing to walk to blocks to sign the papers when George and Paul flew over the ocean. And only on the basis of astrology. He really didn't want the divorce. My heart aches for him. But he made his bed as they say.
I'm putting on my tinfoil hat again here, but I do just have to point out that one of John's first songs, “Hello, Little Girl,” has a line that goes, “you never seem to see me standing there”. And the earliest draft of WISHST, which was started soon after, answers that line. “I saw you standing there.” (Yes, it said you originally, not her). So maybe. Just maybe. That song wasn't just a Paul song, but a song that John knew Paul had put a message in for him. Okay, I apologize for the insanity. On another note, I do wonder if he ever found out what Paul thought of that.
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Interviewer: ≈ at this point, do you like writing by yourself, or do you want to write with Paul again?≈ John: ≈well it's a bit of both. It's the same for Paul. We were talking about it a week ago. Okay, cool. So they definitely talked openly and honestly about potentially writing together again.
John, about their partnership, “There was always the feeling that someone was there if you needed it.” Paired with the gayest picture ever taken and then Paul singing “if I can do anything at all, let me help.” Thanks. I hate it.
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John was so excited for New Orleans! What happened? I mean I have my theory based on May's book and the sudden shift in behavior. But it's pretty dark.
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You know how crazy Paul is about John in interviews now? How he can't seem to keep John's name out of his mouth? John was worse in the seventies. He's promoting his Rock’n’Roll album, talking unprompted and romantically about how he met Paul, when the interviewer reminds him what relationship he's supposed to be romanticizing right now. So John remembers too and dedicates the album to Yoko who he's just got back together with.
Biconic quote.
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Interviewer asks, after John's brought him up, if John's pleased with how well Paul's doing. John expresses his relief that Ringo has "found himself a niche" and then
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I really do think that last bit sums up a big chunk of how John feels about Paul, and why he feels alright playing dirty against Paul or slagging Paul off. Why it would have been the furthest thing from his mind that Paul actually struggled or was insecure. Why Paul had to remind him, “I'm only a person like you, love.”
What an insane thing to think, let alone say. What if Julian had heard that? I'm pretty sure Julian and Paul weren't in contact, really at all, until the eighties, right? So John's doing better than he is at this point (I mean he's his dad, he should be). John is insecure about every possible thing and compares himself to Paul in every possible way.
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Baby. He needed some serious help. The thing that sucks about being ahead of your time is that you also have to live in a world that's behind your needs.
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And then. “There's always a friendly tv channel to turn to that's going to make you feel less alone.” I wonder if Paul “Call Me Back Again, John I know you're not that tired from the baby just let me in the fucking door” McCartney heard this? It's possible with how obsessive they were, but it's also impossible with how busy he kept himself.
Okay, here's the first story we've been missing about Paul experiencing negative emotions. And, of course, as always in this doc, it's paired perfectly with “Don't Let it Bring you Down” which is the musical mission statement of Paul's clenched-jawed smile philosophy.
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"I tend to get a bit absolute in my statements." Yes, John. Yes you do. Another quote that Big Lennon fans should keep in mind.
John on the three weeks he took to decide if he wanted to continue the band after the first Hamburg trip: The others were mad because we could've been making money. Yeah, John, Paul suddenly had to work in a factory after he'd thrown away an educated, white-collar career (the first in his family) to be in your band. I'd be pissed too if you just didn't even bother to call. Anyway I just hate how casual John is about it. Someone who never had to worry about money is just never going to get that.
John doesn't even remember a ballpark number of how much they were making. Paul remembers exactly bragging to his professors that he was making fifteen a week in Hamburg. Sorry to go on and on about this right before Paris, but to me it's an important difference between them.
Anyway, the fact that Paris was more than just a vacation for them. The fact that – according to Stuart and John at least – they might not have come back. It's dizzying. They really thought about just running off together. I wonder what made them decide to come back and continue the band.
No offense if you do, but I don't personally believe in this stuff. What would the motivation have been for the tarot reader to tell him that? Either way, fuck him.
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Gosh the live version of “Call Me Back Again”. You feel it, physically, how bad he wants this phonecall. And the desperation from such a successful man is fantastic. Literally, John, how did it feel to be the only man in the world that could get Paul McCartney to beg? “Pretty baby” “what can I do?” “Boohoohoo babe.” “I tried the operator, but I just can't get through.”
Reporter at the Wings over America tour: No John Lennon, no George Harrison, and no Ringo Starr, just Paul McCartney. And for everyone here tonight, that seemed to be plenty! Obviously he's loving this praise after all the negative press. Anyone would, and Paul needs it more than most people actually. But I bet part of him is like “stop. Don't say it like that, they already hate me enough as it is.”
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How many times has John admitted that he finds Paul attractive? “It was no surprise, you know, when the kids – girls saw him, they go ‘ooh! Ooh!’ right away, you know?”
“I know it's true. It's all because of you.” Playing over this? Are you kidding me? Anyway I've never seen the picture version of this, so I thought I'd screenshot it.
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But actually, in a way, the original written lyrics to Now and Then are less depressing than what he sang on the demo. “I know it's true, I'm still in love with you, and if I make it through, it's all because of you,” is obviously sad because they're both married to other people. But at least in that version, John's saying his own personal resilience to life's struggles comes from his relationship with Paul, which is nice. Whereas when John, who is sliding into a self-hating deep depression I'm comparing himself to Paul's phenomenal success, sings “it's all because of you” in a general sense, it almost feels like a callback to the ‘I'm shit and I couldn't do anything but be a Beatle (and ride Paul's boat)’ quote. Which is heartbreaking. I wish he could've recognized his own genius.
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But yeah either way it's enough to make your heart heavy. If anyone needs a good cry, just go to the last five minutes of this. That should've been the now and then music video, but Paul's too scared of feelings. Which. You know. Considering how much it affects me, I can't even imagine how much it affects him. So he gets a pass.
“Why must we be alone? It's real love. It's real.”
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marvelouslizzie · 1 year
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i wanna ruin our friendship
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summary: James “Bucky” Barnes is a famous actor who just turned 40. He’s getting old and struggling with the fact that he isn’t what he used to be. When he finally opens up to you about how he’s struggling with body image, you assure him in a very unexpected way. Things take a turn after that point.
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (Celebrity Bucky Barnes x Actress Reader)
word count: 4.1K
warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, long period of friendship, unspoken feelings, minor jealousy, alcohol consumption, body image struggles (Bucky is just struggling because of Hollywood’s unrealistic body standards), fear of aging and losing who you are, misunderstandings, pet names, slight dirty talk and praising if you squint, no use of a condom (the reader is on birth control), Bucky is 40 while the reader is 37, no use of y/n.
a/n: I was reading one of Sebastian’s old interviews where he mentions body dysmorphia and how it affects him. It inspired me to write this story. I hope you like it.
The story is beta-read by my dear @notafunkiller. Thank you so much!
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. Every like, comment and reblog is highly appreciated.
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The after-party is buzzing with energy. The room is crowded with so many familiar faces, you can’t even start naming everyone even if you tried. Sometimes you wonder how you ended up in a place like this, then you remember that you are an actress, too. It feels surreal because you were planning to stay a theater actress until you found your big break unexpectedly on the big screen.
That’s actually how you met James Barnes, your first on-screen partner. That’s how everyone called him, but you and a few close friends were always calling him Bucky. It makes you feel special. You look at him and see how he’s talking to Natasha Romanoff, his current partner. They are taking pictures together. You are sure it is meant to be shared by Natasha on her Instagram.
You find yourself walking towards the bar and ordering another drink. You usually don’t drink too much, trying to stay sober but having fun. It’s a thin line, but you managed to keep the balance so far. That gives paps less tea to share online. Tonight feels a bit different and you know it’s because of Bucky and Natasha. They are the perfect couple and you can’t help but feel jealous. Even though you have no right because Bucky is just a friend. 
A hundred chit-chats later, you see Bucky in the corner of the crowded room. He seems down for some reason, you can always tell by the look on his face. He’s good at concealing how he feels. It’s almost like a poker face, but his eyes and his posture always give it away. Slowly, you walk towards him and he notices you right before you sit next to him.
“Hey, handsome. Why are you crying into your beer?”
“I’m not.” His answer is instant and you don’t buy it.
“Come on. I know you better than that. One minute you were happy, enjoying yourself, and now look at you: you're sulking in the corner. Something must have happened.”
He sighs. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” 
You think he maybe had a problem with Natasha and she isn’t around right now. Which is rare. Even though everybody’s attention is on her, she’s always around Bucky. You think it’s because of the unlabeled thing they have going on since they started working together. You never dared to ask if they are together or not. You aren’t ready for that answer yet.
“I know, doll. You are my best friend, but I just…” He stops for a second to think how he’s going to say this. “I don’t feel like myself.”
“What does that mean?” You ask with a frown.
“I’m not who I used to be.”
“Bucky, what are you talking about?”
He takes a deep breath. “I don’t feel like I’m that handsome talented guy I used to be, okay? I feel ugly and…” He looks down at his body. “Fat.”
“Oh, come on!”
“That’s the truth.”
“You are being ridiculous.”
“I’m not and I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
Oh. He must have read something.
“Please don’t tell me you looked at the comments again.”
“I… did.” He accepts with a defeated tone.
“We talked about this before. You should never do that.” Your tone reminds him of a teacher scolding their student and it makes him smile so slightly, but you don’t see it. 
“I didn’t do it on purpose, darling. Natasha shared a photo of us together and I just went to like it.”
Oh.
“And you saw some comments?”
“Yeah. Saying that I’m getting older and uglier. I know I’m not a young man anymore but I’m just 40. Not dead yet, you know?”
“Yeah, of course not.” You take a huge sip from your drink.
“But they don’t think so and I started to notice maybe they are right.”
“Come on, Bucky!”
“I look in the mirror and every day I feel like I see a stranger, not myself. Since I stopped acting in those action movies, I’m not working out and dieting as hard as I used to and it’s so fucking visible. My reflection blinks at me in the mirror. Then I look around to see I’m alone. I’m old and alone. I missed my chance at happiness. I’m lucky if I can find someone to fuck me for the night.”
“I would fuck you, in a heartbeat.” The words just fly out from your lips and you can immediately see their effect on Bucky’s face.
“You would?” His expression seems completely different now.
“Yes… I would.” It’s too late to back down. Your long secret of having a huge crush on Bucky Barnes is basically exposed.
Without saying a word, Bucky takes your hand and drags you out of the after-party without saying goodbye to anyone. You have no idea where you are headed. In a matter of seconds, you find yourself in a cab with Bucky Barnes as he simply gives his house address and says nothing more.
The ride is short and silent. He doesn’t even look in your direction, his eyes are fixed on the road. You are regretting everything. Even the decision to come to this after-party. What were you thinking when you decided to take another drink because you saw Bucky and Natasha taking selfies? Where was your mind when you said you'd fuck him in a heartbeat? He must be so shocked. He's probably planning to talk to you in private, for your friendship’s sake. 
I fucking ruined our friendship, you think.
When the cab ride is over, Bucky pays the driver and holds the door open for you. You are glad to see he’s still a gentleman towards you, even after you said something completely stupid. I should’ve kept my mouth shut, just like I did for years.
Finally, when you step inside his place, Bucky closes the door and pushes you against the wall with a kiss. It’s so unexpected, your breath hitches. His lips are relentless, moving between your lips, your cheek, and your neck. You try to breathe, but it doesn’t feel real.
“I can’t believe we are doing this,” he says between kisses.
You can’t either. You were expecting a serious talk. Not this. 
“We shouldn’t do this.” You suddenly say when you remember Natasha. You didn’t even realize you left her behind when you two left the party so suddenly.
Bucky stops kissing you and looks at you with complete confusion. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have assumed. Was that… a pity comment?”
Now it’s your turn to feel confused. A pity comment? You pity yourself for exposing your crush, but definitely no pity for him. No way in hell.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You said we shouldn’t do this.”
“Because you are with Natasha and we left her at the party! This is wrong, Bucky. As much as I want to… we shouldn’t.”
“Natasha?”
“Yeah, Natasha.”
“What does Natasha have to do with this?” You can sense the confusion in his voice. It’s like he has no idea what you mean but… it makes no sense. 
“She’s just so nice and pretty. No wonder you two got paired together.” You don’t even notice you didn’t answer this question.
“You think I’m pretty, too?”
You roll your eyes. “Everyone in their right mind could see you're pretty. Why are you even asking?"
"I am asking you, not everyone, doll." And there it is again. That damn nickname. Doll. You love and hate to hear him call you that. It’s warming your insides up until you remember he calls other girls doll, too. Especially Natasha. 
"Stop with the nickname.” You finally say with a pained voice. This whole night is a huge mistake and you will be the one who gets hurt most. You can feel that the friendship you have with Bucky is slipping through your fingers already, so there’s no point in holding back now. “Of course you're pretty: the best eyes, fluffy hair. Tall. Looking good in suits. Two beautiful people."
“She’s just my partner and a good friend, darling. Nothing more.”
“But… but…” You stammer. “You are always together. She never leaves your side.”
“It’s because we are friends and I am helping her out.”
“Helping her out?” You repeat with confusion.
“She gets so much unwanted attention, she uses me as a shield, so less people would come up to her and talk.”
Oh. 
It makes perfect sense and Bucky is always a gentleman. 
“You thought we were together?”
“Yeah… kinda…”
Bucky moves closer to you and puts his hands on your face. “Doll…” Then he remembers what you said about the nickname. “Sorry. I never realized you didn’t like this nickname. I won’t use it anymore.”
His touch is so comforting and you feel relieved that there’s nothing going on between Bucky and Natasha. 
“It’s not that I don’t like it.”
“Then what’s the problem?” 
“I just… remember that you use that nickname all the time. It just doesn’t… feel special.”
“Darling, have you ever heard me calling someone else doll?”
His question makes you stop for a second. You actually never did. You just assumed he would be calling other girls doll as well because of the way he says it… It’s just so sexy. 
“I… didn’t.” You struggle to answer through your confusion. 
“Because I don’t call anyone doll. Except you.”
You can’t find words to respond, it feels like your mind completely stopped working. All you can think is how unbelievable all this is.
“Just me?” You repeat, trying to collect your thoughts.
“Just you.” He says reassuringly. “Can I keep calling you that?”
“Yes. Yes, you can.”
His hand slowly moves to your neck. It makes it even harder to think straight.
“Can I go back to kissing you?” His voice is deeper somehow. 
You gulp first. Then nod. Your response makes him smile and it warms you up. 
You imagined this moment many times, then put that image into the back of your mind just to keep going. Right now, his lips on yours are real. Not a dream, not a fantasy, and it feels so much better. 
The way his lips move fires something inside you. Something you tried to surpass and forget, but that never happened. Whenever you felt his touch, even something as simple as hands brushing, you felt that fire inside you and now it's back. Stronger than ever.
Finally, your hands move to his face, cupping it as he kisses you with passion. Now both of you know that this has nothing to do with pity or self-assurance. That gives you the confidence you need.
Your fingers move towards his shoulders as you put your hands inside his jacket and push it back. It surprises him, but he doesn’t resist, just letting the jacket fall to the ground. Then your fingers travel to his shirt. The first button is open but the rest… You start to unbutton them one by one. Then suddenly you found yourself turned around and pressed against the cold wall. His lips are on the back of your neck and his fingers are looking for the zipper. You smile to yourself when you realize you aren’t the only desperate one here.
“It’s not on the back.” He can hear the smile in your voice even though he can’t see your face.
“Where is it?” He sounds frustrated and it’s so adorable.
“On the side.”
His hands quickly move to your side and find the zipper. In a second, you are already unzipped and your dress is pooled around your ankles. You give it a soft kick and get rid of the dress while you go back to unbuttoning this shirt.
You look up at him to see that he’s watching you undress him. There’s a slight smile on his face. You smile back in response and go back to unbuttoning him. When your work is done, he takes the shirt off himself and just tosses it on the floor. It doesn’t take him long to get rid of your bra. He unclips it so quickly, it surprises you. Everything's happening so fast that you feel like you're swimming. Like this is a dream. You grab his face and give him another kiss to remind yourself this is your reality right now. That you are free to touch him however you want. Your kiss takes a low moan out of him as his fingers travel down to your body, toying with the waistband of your underwear.
“No teasing.” You whisper against his ear and you see how your voice affects him up close. “This time.” You add and that slight smile is back on his lips.
“Are you promising me a next time already?” His voice is so low, so different you barely recognize it. He’s lost in the lust, because of you, and you can’t believe it.
“I mean… Maybe.” You sheepishly smile. You already know you want a second and a third time. He doesn’t have to know that, yet. 
“Hmm… Depends on my performance, huh?” Before you can say anything he pushes his fingers under your last remaining clothes and you feel his finger brushing against your clitoris. A low moan escapes your lips. 
Between him touching your clit and you finding yourself on your back on his couch is a complete blur. You don’t know how you ended up completely naked and Bucky between your legs as holding on to your dear life. His lips are on your pussy, licking and touching, driving you crazy. He definitely knows how to use his tongue and fingers. Even though his fingers aren’t inside you, his touches are skillful. Not too harsh, not too soft. Just the perfect amount of pressure. Then he sucks on your clit and you let out a half painful moan. 
“Are you okay?” He lets go of your clit and looks at you concerned. 
“No sucking on the clit please. Not that you aren’t good at it.” You feel nervous suddenly. “It just hurts. Personal preference.” 
He smiles. “Noted.” And goes back to licking you. Soon the pain is long forgotten. 
It feels like he’s everywhere on the most sensitive part of your body. It’s either his lips, his tongue, his nose or simply his fingers but the pleasure is overwhelming. Soon you find yourself moaning his name out loud while coming hard against his tongue. 
He gives you a couple of minutes but doesn’t move at all. Instead, he pushes his fingers inside you when he decides you are finally back to yourself. When you feel one finger delicately pushing inside you, you raise yourself on the elbows.
“I said no teasing.” 
“This isn’t teasing, doll.” He looks straight into your eyes. “This is me making sure you are ready for what I am gonna do to you next.” 
“What are you going to do to me?” You ask breathlessly.
“Whatever you wanna do, baby, and I feel like you want to get fucked hard.” He stops for a second to read your expression. “Am I wrong?” 
His question catches you off guard. He is talking so openly and directly, you feel a little shy. You are not used to voice your needs this openly, yet that’s one the biggest problems you had in the past. Partners not communicating open enough and assuming things. He’s doing what you actually need to do. He’s communicating openly and it’s extremely hot.
You nod first. Then you find your voice again. “Yes. I do want that.” He smiles again. That damned smile makes you even wetter. “But how do you know that?”
“The way you kiss me, push your hips up while I play with you and your hungry look. You look like you wanna eat me up.”
You surpass shyness with a breath. “Yes, I want that too.” 
“Next time. It’s my turn now.” He winks at you and goes back to fingering. 
He starts with one finger. Soon second and third follow and you are back on the clouds. You can’t even recognize your own voice, moaning his name. The pleasure takes over you, your back aches and you come hard on his fingers. It’s your second orgasm yet you still crave for more. You crave his warmth, his passion and the pleasure his cock can give you. You find it strange feeling this hungry after two orgasms but you welcome it anyway. 
He moves up, directly kisses you without drying his mouth. His lips are hungry and demanding. His erection is hanging between you two and you can feel how hard he is. 
“Can you taste yourself on my lips?” He asks shamelessly after breaking the kiss. 
“Yes.”
“How does it feel?”
You say the first things that come to your mind with no filter. “Dirty and hot.” 
“Hmm… Good.” He keeps kissing you, his fingers are still in your pussy, slowly moving his fingers between your folds and feeling your wetness all over again. It feels like he enjoys how wet you are for him. Not just enjoying but relishing.
“This is teasing.” You state between his kisses.
“Is it?” His fingers stop like he didn’t know that already. “I just love how responsive you are.”
“And I wanna feel your cock inside me already.” 
Your bluntness doesn’t only surprise him, but you as well. You have no idea when you finally let go of your shyness. Maybe between the first and the second orgasm. You don’t care anymore. You really need him inside you.
“How do you want it, baby?”
“Let me show you.” You move away from him and miss his warmth instantly, but it’s for a good cause. You turn around and position yourself on your hands and knees. He understands what you want instantly.
“Hmm… You really want it hard.” He sounds amused. His fingers go back to your folds, moving up and down. “Just making sure you are ready.”
“I am dripping already, Bucky. How much more ready can I get?” 
You hear him laugh, but before you can say anything about it, you feel his cock right on your entrance. 
“Tell me if it hurts.” He says before pushing inside. 
His cock stretches you out so deliciously. There’s absolutely no pain at all. The preparation is paying off amazingly. The only thing you are feeling is the fullness you have been craving for so long, but you need more.
“Please move, baby.” 
It's the first time you use a pet name and you do it without thinking about it  but the way you say it affects him deeply. He tries to surpass the loud moan which was about to slip and you notice his struggle.
“Don’t hide your moans from me. I wanna hear them.” 
You imagined this moment for a long time. You spent hours imagining how he would talk, moan and come. You are so close to getting what you want and you have no intention to give up on it. Not even shyness can stop you from getting what you want.
“Then let’s make a deal.” He says, sounding breathless inside you. “None of us will try to hide their reactions. It’s only fair.”
“Deal.” You say eagerly and he chuckles. Then without saying anything else he starts to move inside you. 
First, it’s slow. Not painfully slow but still not as hard as you want. Yet you don’t say anything because you know this isn’t only for you. He’s trying to get used to feeling you around his cock. It seems overwhelming especially when he stops hiding his reaction. Low moans and curses spill from his lips. You say nothing, just enjoy the moment.
“Fuck.” This time he’s speaking louder than before. “You feel amazing around my cock, darling. So… so amazing.”
Your only reaction is moaning. The praise goes straight to your pussy. You wanna slam yourself against his cock and force him to move faster. 
“So eager for me. If I knew you wanted me this bad, we wouldn’t have to wait this long to fuck each other.” 
“It’s not like you made it obvious that you want me either.” 
“Forgive me for not thinking so highly of myself.”
The weight of his words crushes you. 
“Look at me.” You say turning your head back and find him looking directly at you. “You are all I ever wanted.” His expression changes. A wave of emotions waves over him. You feel he’s on the verge of getting emotional. “Now fuck me hard so we can finally experience what this feels like.” He smiles, but you can still see the emotions behind his eyes.
“Your wish is my command, baby.” 
From this moment, he is relentless. It’s fast and hard. The room is filled with the noise of skin slamming against skin, your wetness on his cock and your joint moans. It feels good. So fucking good that it doesn’t feel real. You can feel the pleasure bottling up. He’s moving back and forth with long strokes. His cock never leaves you. He pulls himself back until only the tip remains inside you and slams back in. The moans that leave your lips aren't human anymore. You feel desperate to reach that high again. 
“Please.” You beg suddenly. “Please… I’m so… close.”
“Harder or faster?” His voice is hoarse, showing you how close he is to losing control. 
“Faster.” You manage to say between moans. It’s so hard to even say one word out loud.
“I’m gonna come too.” And right then he notices that he didn’t put on a condom. “Fuck.” He sounds so disappointed.
“What?”
“We forgot the condom.” He slows down. 
“Keep going. I’m on birth control.” 
“Thank god!” You can’t help but smile before he picks up the pace again. In a second, both of you are a moaning mess. You come hard, so hard that you feel your muscles cramping with the force of it. Your whole body is electrified, you can feel it even on your toes. The noises you make push him over the edge. He starts to move faster and when you think your high is about to end, a new level opens up. Your mind stops working while your body turns jelly under him. 
He isn’t any different than you. His loud moans, and his desperate pace show how much he is enjoying it, but you are too lost in your own pleasure to notice. 
When you both drop your bodies on the couch, neither of you find the words. 
“Wow.” That's all you can say.
“Wow indeed.”
You turn your face and look at him. He seems completely blissed out.
“We should’ve done this waaay before.” You smile hearing his words. 
“You could’ve made a move, but you were too busy pitying yourself.” 
The words come out without you considering what you are saying and it doesn’t take long for you to regret them. It isn’t the time or place to talk about this. 
“I wanted to ruin our friendship for a long time, doll, but I was afraid. I was scared that I would ruin it for real and you wouldn’t wanna see me again. I was just fine being your good friend. It was a better alternative than losing you completely.”
You know what he means too well. That’s how you felt since the moment you met Bucky. He is such an amazing person, you didn’t want to lose him. Even if it means you have to witness him being happy with other people.
“That’s how I felt too, but look at you. Who can say no to you?” 
His smile is bitter. You sense he doesn’t believe you even without him opening his mouth.
“Come on. That is the afterglow speaking.”
You move your head up and get support from your left hand. 
“Look at me, Bucky.” He does and you see that he really doesn’t believe you. “You are gorgeous. Inside and out.”
“I know I am not what I used to be.”
“And that’s fine.” You quickly add. “You might not be Men’s Health cover material anymore, but guess what? It’s less healthy trying to keep that shape. Don’t let the name fool you. You don’t need six packs and huge biceps to look attractive. You need to be healthy so I can keep fucking you.”
Your last sentence makes him smile sincerely.
“You really believe that?”
“I do and honestly I have never been a six pack girl. You are even more attractive like this to me. A bit older and experienced. Just my type.”
“Hmm…” He says before kissing you deeply. You lose yourself in that kiss. So when he breaks it and asks you out, you are caught off guard.
“Huh?”
“I said: does it mean you will let me take you on a date?” 
A date? With Bucky Barnes? 
“Oh, yes. Anything you want.”
2K notes · View notes
ashs-pastas · 11 months
Note
Hello! I didn't see any posts of hc on ur page so I suppose I'm the first request! It'll probs be a long one bc, Yandere AU and they're NSFW and SFW. So just... don't yell at me.
These are all Yandere AU versions so... they're all Yanderes.
- Jeff, Candypop, Masky and Hoodie NSFW alphabet and maybe 1 or 2 SFW hc?
- Jason the Toymaker | Random NSFW and SFW headcanons!!!1!!1!
Take your time of course, darling! And if you ever want more requests, just DM me if you'd like!
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Yandere Jeff the Killer, Candy Pop, Hoodie & Masky nsfw alphabet [A-E] With some sfw headcannons
[someone laugh at the first pic with me pls]
I would never yell at you :’-) I have always wanted to try writing these!! I did a few because when I make a post too long my tumblr glitches grrr. Also I don’t know much about Jason the Toy maker so I will read up on him tonigjt and do those tomorrow :-) also please feel free to send more!!! also does Candy Pop have a canon name?? I’ve tried to find it but i might be dumb
Jeff the Killer nsfw alphabet
A is for Aftercare -
Jeff is not the best with aftercare… his first response isn’t to get up and clean up or anything but he loves to hold you tight afterwards. He will absolutely not let you get up for whatever reason. He likes pillow talk in a way. He doesn’t really talk much but he likes to hear you talk about whatever comes to mind. You could be talking about anything and he will just nod along and listen attentively
B is for Body part
His favorite body part on himself would be his smile of course. He also loves his arms. He’s pretty proud of the muscle that he has and loves to flex for you. He thinks he’s an absolute beauty and loves everything about himself though.
His favorite body part on his s/o is most likely their hair. It doesn’t matter whether it’s short or long, curly or straight, dyed or natural. He loves all the ways you style it and loves to play with it. It’s also something that he loves to grab on and pull on during sex. He has a thing for pulling on your hair and forcing you to look him in the eyes.
B is for Bondage
I actually don’t think Jeff is a big fan of tying you down because I think he would rather pin you down himself. He likes to show you how much stronger he is then you. He likes the fear in your eyes when you realize you can’t fight him off. The only bondage I can see him being into is gagging you if you are whining too much. He also ties you down when he leaves because he wouldn’t want his darling escaping
C is for Cum
Jeff is a nasty nasty man and he loves to cum pretty much all over you. He especially loves to cum on your face or chest. Seeing you covered in his seed makes his possessive side so happy.
D is for Dick size
Jeff is probably a good 5 and a half inches but THICK. He absolutely knows how to use it too.
D is for Dom
This may be controversial but I have seen a lot of sub Jeff headcannons and I can not picture that. Jeff is a mean dom 24/7. He is very selfish with his pleasure and he loves to be in control of your pain and pleasure. He is very demanding and expects you to submit to him at all times.
E is for Experience
I can see Jeff having had a few flings but they meant nothing to him and it was just when he was very horny and looking to get his dick sucked. With how selfish he has been with his own pleasure I think you would have to gently teach him how to please you. He would be very cocky and pretend he is a sex god though but he would actually take your advice. ( he would never say that aloud but he wants to be able to make your legs shake and have you screaming his name)
sfw headcannons
- Jeff is the type of guy to talk to you after you fall asleep. Usually quietly muttering about how he “fucking loves you” and he would “kill anyone for you”
- Jeff is not the sweetest guy but if he ever see’s that you haven’t ate much then he will get you your favorite foods and snacks even if he doesn’t like them
- He loves when you brush his hair. It’s often tangled and messy and he loves when you do it for him
Candy Pop nsfw alphabet
A is for Aftercare
Candy Pop is actually decent at aftercare. He would clean you up afterwards, often lingering on spots you are especially sore and cuddle up to you. Sex with Candy Pop is often tiring with how many rounds he likes to go so you would usually drift off to sleep in his arms.
B is for Body part
Candy Pop has a hard time picking a favorite body part on himself because he loves himself but he would say his hair. He loves how long and soft it is and he would encourage you to pull on it during sex or if he was going down on you.
Candy Pop’s favorite body part on you would be your chest. It doesn’t matter what gender you are or the size but he will constantly be groping and leaving marks all over your chest. He likes to gift you outfits that show off your chest so he has more reason to stare and touch you.
B is for Bondage
Candy Pop’s is into everything and bondage is one of his favorites. He loves tying down his sweet darling so they are unable to move and touching them all over and overstimulating them as much as possible. He would also love to be on the receiving end and be tied down by his darling as long as he could trust them not to pull any tricks on him.
C is for Cum
Candy Pop loves to cum everywhere he can. His favorite places to cum would be deep inside of you or in your mouth, and he expects you to swallow all of it because, “Good babies are grateful for treats.” Make sure you don’t waste a drop. He also loves when you cum inside of his mouth and on his face. He will happily lick up all of your sweet juices. He is addicted to your taste and will want to make you cum again so he can taste more of you.
D is for Dick size
Candy Pop is very long at 7 inches. He’s not the thickest but so long that he hits all of your sweet spots that have you seeing stars easily.
D is for Dom
Candy Pop is a major switch. He can easily go from being a bratty sub and mouthing off to a pleasure dom wanting to do their best to have you cumming over and over. Either way they will always be focused on pleasing you first.
E is for Experience
Candy Pop is very experienced and loves to show it off. He knows all the tricks and will abuse it to the max. He is very observant and will know exactly what you like and don’t like. He is also very good at guessing what kinks people have so don’t expect to be able to hide anything from him. Nothing is too wild for him, he just wants to try your favorite things out with you!
sfw headcannons
- Candypop loves to have spa nights with you. He is always willing to do all the work for you. He’ll put products in your hair and do face masks with you. ( kind of weird but if you like to shave, he will always offer to do it for you. and he will be very gentle )
- He loves to give you massages!! Very good at them too he might be a secret masseuse because he always finds where you’re sore and rubs the knots out
- If you like to do makeup he will BEG you to do his. It doesn’t matter if you are a pro or not very skilled, he will love the look no matter what
- He also strikes me as the type to really like wearing matching outfits (not completely but color coordinated and such)
Hoodie nsfw alphabet
A is for Aftercare
Brian is a great guy when it comes to aftercare. He will get you whatever you ask for. If you don’t want to move he will gently clean you up with a towel. If you want a bath he will run you one with lots of bubbles. He will inspect your body and apologize and kiss any marks he left behind.
B is for Body part
Brian isn’t the most confident but he likes his hands. He thinks they are very strong and he knows he can use them in multiple ways ;)
Brian’s favorite body part on you would be your lips. He’s always starring at them and thinking about how soft and plump they are. He absolutely loves kissing you and he likes when they are red and swollen after a makeout sesh.
B is for Bondage
I can see Brian being averagely interested in bondage but he likes to tie you down with softer materials like silk. But if you’ve been bad then he can always handcuff you. He does sometimes like to use your belt around your neck as a makeshift leash/collar, He loves tugging on it while he’s fucking you from behind.
C is for Cum
He can be a bit more shy and likes to pull out and cum on your stomach or back. He will not vocalize it but he would lose his mind if when he cums in your mouth you would swallow and open your mouth and stick your tongue out to show him that you swallowed all of his seed. He would instantly be hard again.
D is for Dick size
I think Brian is just short of 6 inches and pretty insecure about it. He’s very girthy though and fills you up perfectly.
D is for Dom
I can see Brian being a switch but like 90% dom and 10% sub. But I think if he was subbing and you teased him too much or were going too slow for his liking he would take back control by flipping you over and reminding you why he’s in charge.
E is for Experience
This is a hard one tbh. He’s probably had a few sexual encounters but nothing that went past second base. He would be very nervous your first few times but would quickly learn what you like.
sfw headcannons
- From the moment you started dating he will secretly be planning your wedding
- Also keeps notes of random things you like and don’t like
- The type to kiss any “ouchies” you might have got (i’m cringing at my own word choice but for some reason I can see him using it)
- He brings you flowers at LEAST once a week and they are always your favorite
Masky nsfw alphabet
A is for Aftercare
Also decent at aftercare. Will help clean you up and make you drink water. Also feels bad if he sees how rough he was and you are walking funny. He will carry you around.
B is for Body part
He loves his hair and is pretty happy with soft and fluffy it can get. He takes good care of it and can get annoyed if he’s having a bad hair day. If you compliment it or play with his hair, his ego will grow.
He loves your neck/throat. He just loves how soft and sensitive you can be when he kisses it or leaves marks. Your neck is always covered in love bites and he knows exactly where your sweet spot is.
B is for Bondage
Tim is a very big bondage fan. He likes a lot of the complex knots and such. As punishment he likes to tie you up in strange way that often leave you sore and bruised. I don’t know if this counts as bondage but he would love to get a sex swing, he thinks both you and him would enjoy it very much ;) He is not ALWAYS intentionally rough but he does feel a bit smug when he sees the rope burn marks the night after.
C is for Cum
Another nasty man. Will cum wherever he pleases. He likes to cum on your chest and face a lot. He likes the look of surprise when he pulls out of mouth and shoots his load all over your face. He likes to cum inside of you, only to make you walk around without panties so he can see his cum dripping down your legs.
D is for Dick size
A little under 6 inches but will brag about his massive cock constantly. Unfortunately you can not deny it because he is pretty big. Not the thickest but also not thin either.
D is for Dom
Tim is 100% a dom. You could not make this man sub if you tried. He would laugh in your face and edge you. I can see him having a lot of control issues and having an obedient little darling would make him very happy. Although if you were to ever act out… he would make sure there would not be a second time.
E is for Experience
Averagely experienced but never really played around kinks and fetishes until he met you. Unlike Jeff I think he would be very cocky but has the qualifications to back it up.
sfw headcannons
- He likes to participate in your favorite hobbies/activities with you. He might complain a little but he can’t hide his smile at seeing you happy and in your element
- Tim cannot cook but he will “help” when you are cooking. By doing the easy things such as chopping and preheating the oven lol
- The type to bring you stuffed animals. He will leave them in your room for you to find and deny it was him but you obviously know it was him
496 notes · View notes
writerscall · 5 months
Text
i cannot be your friend, so i pay the price of what i lost. and what it cost now that we don't talk.
because pushing her away was easier than having to stomach seeing her be with someone else.
author's note/s: 1k words. this is part one of a series. close friends to sad strangers to surprise college roommates is a trope, right?
Ignoring Hazel for the rest of the year wasn’t an easy decision or any easy thing to do. You two weren’t attached at the hip but you were such good friends that even the people who didn’t really talk to either of you eventually asked if you two had a falling out. We’re both just pretty busy at this time of senior year, you’d tell them; you had no idea what Hazel’s answer was to that, and you didn’t wanna know. It hurt you to ice her out but after what happened at the game, you just couldn’t be around her. Not when it was clear that PJ was in the picture like that.
Really, you should’ve been happy for her. You were one of the first people she came out to and even though she never explicitly said it, you knew she wanted to experience one relationship, or even a sort of fling, before high school ended. But your wishful thinking that it could’ve been the two of you in the end like some cliche really was just that — wishful thinking. That kiss and the way she and PJ acted around each other after said it all.
So you blocked it all out. Joined some clubs to fill up your schedule and actually make you as busy as you said you were, focused on academics like never before, got closer to other friends (for obvious reasons but also, why the hell not? It was senior year and you might not see some of them again). Overall, there were pros to what you decided to do about your crush on Hazel Callahan. You were making the most out of a sucky situation.
What you weren’t proud of was deciding to go out with the baseball team’s captain on a whim, and then agreeing to really date him after. He was nice and was a pretty good boyfriend, but you weren’t as into him as he was into you. But that was the least of your concerns throughout that relationship that inevitably came to an end as graduation neared.
You’ll never forget the complicated look on her face the day he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek at your locker. You’ll never forget the ‘Can we talk now? Please?’ text she sent that night, her last attempt at reaching out before she took to ignoring you too.
And that was it. Hazel wasn’t part of your senior year until its end and you assumed it would be the same for the rest of your life, or at least for a long, long time.
But the universe just loved playing cruel tricks sometimes.
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“Okay, you’re sure you’ve got everything? Those new notebooks, your writing materials, enough bras and pa—”
“Okay, mom!” You cut her off with a nervous laugh, silently thanking god that your roommate and whoever was helping her move in hadn’t arrived yet. “I’ve got it all, I promise. It’s okay for you to go now.”
Your mother sighs as she reaches out to give your arm a squeeze, and after a few more pointers for your first day and about five ‘you can always give us a call for anything’ reminders, you were alone. You smile to yourself as you look at your fixed up side of the dorm, jittery in a good sense. Everyone said college was different from high school in the best way and you were determined to make it so. Even though you knew how much busier and hectic life would get with university level academics.
You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t hear the door open. It’s only when that painfully familiar voice says your name that you snap out of it.
Hazel Callahan, practically the same as ever, standing in the doorway with her luggages and a duffel bag across her body. She manages a smile, small and hesitant. To your surprise, all you can say is, “You’re my roommate?”
Her face twitches in disappointment, smile faltering noticeably. You didn’t mean for that to come off the way it clearly did but the question escaped you before you could think. Of all the people in the world — or even just of all the people in high school, it just had to be her? You were over Hazel. You’d tried so hard and honestly haven’t thought about her much at all since graduation.
Only for all that effort to feel like it was undone within seconds. Fantastic.
“Trust me, I… I didn’t know this would be the arrangement. My mom’s got an old friend here who could probably do a room switch for one of us — I mean, for me I guess, you’ve already got your side of the room fixed up while I’m still all packed, so—”
You put a hand up to stop her. “Hazel, it’s fine. We can share this room. All that stuff from…” You let the sentence trail off and clear your throat. “I mean, it doesn’t matter anymore, it never really has.”
Though expecting her to brighten even slightly at your attempt at an olive branch, her expression stays the same. Complicated actually, like the one she had upon seeing you and your (short-lived) senior year boyfriend for the first time in school. You try not to think about it.
“Anyway, I’ve got some things to go check with the registrar’s office, so I’ll get out of your hair so you can unpack and all that.” There was nothing to check with at the registrar’s office, but you needed to find some place that wasn’t your dorm to pull yourself together. Or maybe scream.
There’s a look of understanding on her face but shakes her head at you. “You wouldn’t be in the way. We could use this time to catch up. It’s been a long while, you know?”
Well, you certainly weren’t ready for that, so you just say something about wanting to get to the office while it wasn’t too busy yet. You cast her a side glance with a smile that you really hoped didn’t look forced or fake as you watch her bring in her things, then make a beeline for the door. 
But you stop when she asks, “Hey, um, maybe we can sit with each other at the orientation tomorrow?”
“Uh… yeah, sure.” And you knew that didn’t sound forced or fake with the way Hazel almost grins at you.
Yeah, you really needed to find a place to scream somewhere on campus.
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Howdy! I was wondering what the twst guys would do if apocalypse mc came to twisted wonderland with a rifle and handgun? Like rook learning they can be used for hunting or lilias reaction to the weapons of war from their world
You don’t have to write this! I’ve just been brainrotting about this 😮‍💨
Anyway thanks for your time!💕💕
I really need to add a character limit to this.
I'm doing one from the first 5 dorms and if you want more characters I'll get to them once requested open again.
FEM ALIGNED DNI
Yuu pronouns are he/him
Characters: Ace (technicallyduece too ig), ruggie, jade, kalim, and rook
Warnings: Dueces slight suicidal ideation, ruggies lowkey nihilism, you kill a monster in Jades part, slight body horror in Kalims part, not proof read
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Ace:
Ace was pissed. Why? Because he was fucking stupid.
He was stupid. Duece was stupid. And that weird kids with the weird mask and the fucking fire monster was fucking stupid.
Because someone thought it would be a great idea to run away from their clean up duty (Grim (ace quietly chose to ignore that he had tried to do the same thing first)) by hiding in a chandelier was a good idea, and someone else thought hurling him into said chandelier with questionable at best magic was an even better idea.
So now ace trappola was running for his life in a crystal mine, with only the same people who got him into this situation in the first place here with him.
These feelings only seemed to be amplified after duece decided that the crystals were worth more than his life! Also it didn't exactly help that he had seen the magicless guy almost get impaled with one of the oversized pickaxes that...that thing was swinging around.
"My....m.y..Give me back..my. STONES"
The adrenaline rushed through aces body like a wave, it's only purpose being to make sure he survives dammit! He doesn't even care if he gets expelled anymore. His brother has told him enough stories about NRC to write a novel. Ace had come here with a picture already painted in his head and this was not it.
He made a sharp turn left. They had walked down this tunnel on their way in right?
He saw a little light poke out just around the next turn.
Yeah, they had come through this way.
Ace heard a small yelp and the sound of dirt being scattered and a small thud of someone hitting the ground.
He didn't look back. He just kept running.
He kept running until he came across the small cottage that they'd gone into earlier. Duece stumbled in right after him. The masked boy and the fire cat-weasle thing on his shoulders.
The guy was covered in dirt. He's probably the one that fell.
Ace was bent over, panting like he had just ran for his life, probably because he did, but he's pretty sure he heard duece half gently set the kid, whose name he still didn't really know, down before he joined ace in his desperate attempt to catch his breath.
Ace closed his eyes. What the hell is happening right now? Why was he here? Why did he have to go tease that weird magicless freak this morning and pick a fight with their freaky cat?
You know what? Fuck this. If he gets expelled, so be it. There are plenty of other magic schools, including ones closer to home. He'll be just fine.
Duece however, didn't seem to get the memo.
"It was right there...we have to go back!", duece had so much determination in his voice...
Ace felt his eye twitch. "Like hell we do!"
Duece snapped his head towards him, and the mystery bro was still sitting on the floor, now cradling grim like he was an actual cat.
"Yeah, no. Sorry, but that crystal ain't worth it"
"So...so you're just gonna take the expulsion lying down? Just like that!? What are you, some kind of coward!?", duces voice got progressively more angry, which ace thought was bullshit.
He thought he was being perfectly reasonable with his choices, thank you very much.
"Uhhh. Yeah! Sorry not sorry, I choose life!"
I mean sure, his brother is gonna look at him all disappointed and shit, but hey, at least he'd be alive to see it.
Ace looked back at Mr. Mask-Man, who was still quietly petting grim, acting like they weren't even there.
It kind of pissed him off a little.
"Hey", he looked up, Ace count see their eyes, but somehow he knew they weren't making eye contact "do you have any better ideas? Or are you just gonna sit there the while time and not do anything?"
Was he being unfair? Probably. This guy (he should really ask for his name) wasn't even supposed the be in night Raven college, not to mention here? And he probably didn't want to be here any more than he did.
Did he care about that though? No. Not right now anyway.
Ace expected him to just put his head back down and go back to petting his freaky weasel. He expected them to just shrink up on themselves while ace went back to yelling at duece.
He did expect the guys head to perk up the smallest bit, he didn't expect the sudden feeling of very intense eye contact either.
And he definitely didn't expect him the nod and stand up so fast ace almost stumbled back.
But you know what the absolute last thing he expected from this guy? Going back to the mines.
Going back to the mines and waiting with duece for grim and the masked guy to come hauling ass back up the hill with the ...inky monster in tow. Because that's what's going to happen. Apparently.
...fuck. This guy was some type of maniac wasn't he?
Ace just glared at the ground. There wasn't anything he could do about it now, but he was still gonna be pissed if he died with a possible psychopath currently running towards him, and this blue gumball son of a bitch standing next to him.
"Bring me....my...stooones!"
He took a deep breath, possibly one of his lasts.
But I mean hey, might as well go out with a bang right?
The next few minutes all seemed to happen in slow motion, and somehow ace could already see the moment when the reality of all this would all hit him. At 3 am or something like that. Probably.
...yeah. 3 am.
"Ace watch out!", a panicked, exhausted voice called out to him. Probably duece.
His head snapped over to where his dormmate was. What's happening?
The answer seemed pretty damn obvious, when a large shadow seemed to swallow him whole, a product of the monsters looming stature.
Ace froze. Seeing his life start to flash before his eyes. Memory after memory replaying in his mind.
You never really know how little you've lived until you see it all right in front of you...
BAM.
Aces eyes shot open (when had he closed them?) To see Mr. Mask standing just roughly six meters away from him, holding a...
...uh....what the hell was that?
BAM. BAM. BAM.
The loud noises rang out one by one. One right after the other.
Ace booked it to the side, trying to catch his breath.
Only for it to get caught again once he looked up.
The creatures head, the glass ink jar, was leaking. It had six small holes in it, and cracks spiderwebbing out from said holes. As the cracks grew larger, the glass began to break off, and more and more ink began to pour out.
"Duece!"
Aces eyes snapped to their third member, who responded immediately with another cauldron.
The head finally shattered. And the monster disappeared.
Slowly, aces gaze fell on the Ramshakle resident once again. Blinking slowly as he watched the guy put the...loud..thing away, before picking up grim once again.
Ace opened his mouth, and before he could even begin to realize what he was doing, he asked, "what was that?"
You called it a gun.
Ruggie:
Listen. Ruggie wasn't new to violence. You can't live in the slums all your life and make it out completely sheltered, no matter how hard your parents try.
And sure. Ruggie wasn't exactly a saint himself, But at this point, was anyone? He certainly didn't think so.
Yeah. Almost getting killed by leona fucked him up a little. But really, it wasn't that new when he really thought about it.
And yeah, leona never really apologized to him for all that, but at times like that, in an environment like savanaclaw? He didn't need to. His actions, no matter how small they were, still spoke for themselves.
So yeah. Ruggie bucchi has a lot of experience with violence.
But if you were to ask ruggie if he's ever seen anything like this before? Yeah. He'd have to answer no.
Everything was going shit. They were following the plan, he did his part flawlessly might he add, and then Azul decided he didn't want to follow the script. So now he was surround by black ink, panicking students, and slightly less panicking... allies? Allies.
But yeah. This sucked.
And so began the fight for his life once again. Honestly, this shit was getting old.
Whipping his head in every which way to look or for flying debris and tentacles (and wasn't that a sentence), and keeping his ears open for shouted commands and warnings, his attention landed on you for half a second, before quickly turning away; In that half second he saw you pull something out from jacket pocket.
About five seconds later, he heard a loud bang.
And not like when the construction workers accidentally drop a metal beam on concrete or something. No, this was just a loud, earth shattering bang that demanded attention. And attention it got.
Several heads snapped to you, holding a...uhhh. You tilted your head to the side, either in confusion or trying to get an angle on Azul.
BANG BANG
And then there was a scream, distorted and pained, with a faint sound of gushing and sloshing, a liquid being spilled. Ink being spilled out of the overblot phantoms head.
"Huh...the other one just died immediately..", he heard you mutter.
Ruggie shot a pointed look over to leona, who just looked at him in confusion. Ok. So he didn't miss anything during his housewardens little episode. He took a quick glance at the heartslabyul duo, who looked like they understood. Well, Ace understood. Duece wasn't close enough to hear and didn't have the hearing to pick up the slack.
Ok. So maybe yuu also decided to whip the thing out when riddle when crazy? He'll ask around later. Probably.
A tentacle slammed right next to him and started writhing around with another loud scream as the phantom lost more and more ink, and Ruggie remembered where they were.
The damage you did the overbloted octopus wasn't enough to downright defeat him, but it was enough to at least make the rest of the way a hell of a lot easier. So they're odds were looking much better than they were. Small mercies.
When everything eventually came to a head and the ink was beginning to melt off of Azul and he could finally breathe, he let his mind drift back to you.
Ok. What the hell. What was that? Why did it make that noise? What did it even do? How'd it shatter thick ass, magic glass? Did it launch blades at it or something? Also, why are you pretending like this whole thing was completely normal?
You weren't freaking out about this, you honestly seemed more focused on combing the gunk out of Azuls hair with your gloved fingers while the twins tried to asses his mental state, grim flopping on the ground off to your side. Now, this is probably your third, or maybe even fourth time you've been in this situation. But perfect, you treating it like it's just another Tuesday isn't exactly. Uh. Normal?
Not that you were normal, you had just began taking regular baths, which he was immensely grateful for. Seriously, he could only hold back leonas hair as he puked so many times before it got old. But even your (lack of) personality raised a few questions. Sometimes he wondered if you where really even there half the time.
After he caught his breath, he began to walk over to where you were, Ace and duece now scolding you and jade trying to check if you were hurt or not, and holy shit that is a big ass gash.
But he was already standing right behind you, so he honestly might as well ask.
"Hey. So uh. What did you do? What made the bangs?"
Your head snapped in his direction, pausing to just stare at him for a few unnerving seconds.
And then you pulled something out and called it a gun.
Jade:
Jade didn't really question why you wanted to join his club, he was just glad someone did. Even if that someone was a fucking weirdo like yourself.
Listen, jade wasn't picky when it came to his clubmembers ok?
Plus, aside from a few conversations about a bird or plant species you liked, and many more questions about basic things that you had apparently never seen before, and him acting like he knew any better than you about it, things went smoothly.
He collected his mushrooms and occasionally stopped to do a fieldsketch and you rolled around in moss and somehow became an instant bird whisperer. It was a good system.
About as good as it could be while you were running from a big ass monster.
Ok. Listen. He knew that there were monsters on this particular mountain, and he knew that some of them were man eaters. But dammit he did the research before hand! He made sure the two of you avoided their natural habitats at all cost! But apparently, this particular one could smell human blood much better than the rest, and apparently, you thought it was a good idea to not tell him you had cut yourself on a rock and were now bleeding.
"There's a cave right there!", he saw you point to an opening in a rock wall that was most definitely the small least cave he'd ever seen "do you think we could hide in it for a minute"
"I don't know!", you didn't really have any other options, running forever until you reached the place where the mirror had dropped you both off was more than inconvenient, especially on a mountain that had more steep cliffs than average. So he quickly signaled to you and began running towards it, awkwardly running into the small hole and barely seeing you baseball slide your way into there with much more ease.
Desperately trying to catch his breath, he started to plan. You only had a few minutes at best before the monster caught up to you, so the best thing they could do with the time they had was treat your wound to the best of his ability, and hope that the smell of blood would gradually fade and the beast would be thrown off your trails.
Click
He looked to you, hunched over and sill slightly panting as you loaded small, but long pointed metal cylinders into...something?
You had stopped wearing the mask, being one of the few people you trusted enough to see your face, which was sweet if he thought about, you were even getting better to look at! Looking a lot less like you had come back from the dead after the apocalypse and more like a recovering drug addict, but hey! Progress!
But he point is, he could see your face, and the look on your eyes, and...
Ah shit.
Perfect. Listen perfect, he knows you're batshit crazy, he is too, but please, you're going to get them killed. Even with your insane amount of luck, your half baked plans only work most of the time so for the love of the sea witch please just-
"I have an idea"
...Dammit.
So that's how you both got here, kneeling just barely out of the cave opening, and him standing on the Rocky formation right above you outside the cave. Waiting for the monster, and possi ly for death. If he survives this the first things he'd doing when he gets back to his dorm room is write his will so that he can make sure his precious mushrooms aren't thrown away by his brother. Would riddle accept them?
"Jade!"
He blinked, got his magic pen ready, and you cocked your gun. Staring at the place where the sound of heavy footsteps and snarls were coming from.
You both waited with baited breath as themonsters form came running up the steep hill and charged towards the two of you.
The sensation of water and earth magics filled the air as spell after spell was released, hitting the creature a good majority of the time. Meanwhile, you were shifting slightly, getting into a position that didn't look the most comfortable, but apparently it worked for you because you quickly gave him a small warning shout.
Jade covered his ears. You had warned him about the sound guns make, and how many people went deaf fro them due to lack of proper equipment and training, you sounded like you were repeating a quote that was all but drilled into you, a saying that everyone knows but never really says out loud. Did he belive you were exaggerating? Slightly.
That went away when he heard the loud boom though, even through his covered ears. Jade grew slightly concerned at the fact that you didnt seem to be too affected by all this.
You didn't seem too surprised at the loud noise. Just angling and adjusting the gun position until you could hit your target more accurately as it moved.
He heard ten shots go off. Out of those ten, at least seven actually hit. The monster, being as huge as it was, was about to ignore the first three. The rest, however, were clearly starting to take a toll on the thing.
He saw you pull the trigger a few more times, nothing more than assumed clicks coming out. Jade couldn't be too sure, as the pained roars of the monster completely drowned out the sound. Wordlessly, he got took his hands away from his ears and readied his magic. Letting it burst all around him and borage the monster as soon as your hand shot up into the air. The signal that you needed to reload and he had to momentarily take over.
The whole event took about fifteen minutes that felt like they were stretched into hours. Ending with him feeling a bit lightheaded, and you firing three extra shots into what he was pretty sure was a monstrous corpse. "Just in case".
Wanting to sit down and take a moment to collect himself was only just outweighed by the urge to make sure you were alright. So, jade jumped down from his little rock podium; he reached the ground just as you completely crawled out of the cave entrance.
Gently, he asked, "are you alright perfect?". A perfectly appropriate question to ask after...that.
To which you, in reply, completely flop down on the rough ground and let out a loud groan, both of you pretending that there wasn't a dead, three-metter tall monster right next to you.
An equally appropriate response.
"Four magazines jade! Four! I'm going to have to make soany bullets now!", jade only nodded, like how you do when he starts ranting about his beloved mushrooms.
Oh well, he'd understand soon enough. He has plenty of questions regarding you and you gun for the walk back to the mirror location.
Kalim:
Kalim felt like was caving in on him.
This was all happening so fast, way too fast. The one person that he thought he could trust whole heartedly, the boy he saw as nothing less than a brother, had done all this.
It was a lot to take in. Everything from his supposed verdict of keeping his dorm members in school, to yuu and grims vague comments, comments that he now recognizes for the warnings they were, to the guys from octavinnle, jamil overblotting, getting flung to the dessert, and now to be back here? Fighting for not only his, but his best friends (were they though?) Life?
Kalim just wanted to cry. The drop the the floor and cry. But he'd already done that and there was no time to do it again now. Not when he could see the ink and the snakes sucking out more and more of jamils life, when he could see jamils body begin the break down and contort in ways that shouldn't be possible. Not when his eyes grew more deranged with every second.
No, Kailm couldn't cry now. Not when Jamil was dying.
Magic attacks meeting the emotions of dread and rage that jamil had kept professionally buried only served made the air more tense. Yuu occasionally shouted directions from he sidelines, directions to use fire magic instead of water, or to dodge an incoming attack that very well could have killed him if it made contact.
And that just raises the question. Did jamil..? Was it his intention to kill him? Was that his goal the entire time?
....No. No, if Jamil wanted Kailm dead, then Kailm would be dead. He didn't want Kailm gone he just wanted him to go away. And for that reason, Kailm had the hope that he needed that he could fix this. And by the seven he'll cling to it for as long as he lives if that's what it takes.
"Perfect!", Jades sharp voice took Kailm right out of his thoughts.
"Yeah? Kailm move to the right!", he moved to the right, just in time for a borage of ink and thron covered vines to come crashing into the exact spot he was standing not even five seconds prior. The vines writhing around like they were alive, and he could see the sharp, jagged edges of its thorns cut into its self with the ease of cutting through soft butter. Not that he would know. "What do you need?"
"Do you have your gun?", Jade svoice was deathly calm, which was a bit jarring all things considered.
He didn't know what a "gun" was, but he guesses floyd knew, because he groaned louder than some of his youngest siblings when they had to get up early.
From out the corner of his eye, he saw you stop for a few seconds. Then you answered.
"Yeah", something in your voice that he couldn't quite read. "Yeah, but I only have like five shots"
Both jade and azul looked less than pleased with that, and Kailm still didn't know what was going on, so he just threw more fire at his friend.
"Well then. You better make them count", azuls matter of fact voice rang out.
He didn't see if you nodded or not. And for the next minute, he didn't hear you at all. There were no more instructions being shouted or anything like that. Just the continued onslaught of four peoples magic, all trying desperately to snap Jamil out of his current state. Who was being bent into more and more inhuman shapes as the seconds passed.
His jaw was opening a little too wide as he laughed, his fingers seemed to be getting longer and more claw like, and his voice was so now so distorted that he could barely even understand what he was saying.
But what freaked him out the most what the loud cracking and crunches of bones breaking. Jamils spine now seemed too long, bent in an unnatural way, accompanied by a crack everytime he moved. He only laughed.
Kalim didn't laugh. There was ink running down his body, all from where he had been contorted. And as time crawled on, his eyes grew more and more crazed, and his distorted laughs turned more like screams.
Kalim wasn't the best at magic, he had never been the best at magic, he knew that, even before now. So when he felt himself become light headed as his energy and magic supply ran low, he started to panic.
Oh no. Oh sevens, oh no. Please no. Not now. Anytime but now. He couldn't lose now. What would happen to jamil? How would he get Jamil home after this?
How was he supposed to tell Jamils family that their son and brother was dead?
BANG
A distorted scream ran out as floyd began to cheer, and his stomach dropped.
BANG BANG BANG
More screams. Blood curdling screams that froze Kalim where he stood. Watching jamils face begin the crack, ink pouring through the cracks on his face like blood as his eyes rolled back and his entire expression turned to one of pain. A perfect mirror to the shattering phantom that loomed behind him.
"I have one shot left and I am not wasting it! Aim for the cracks! Use fire! It'll weaken the glass!", your voice rang out, carrying a determination with it, but also the reality that they were in no way out of the woods yet.
"You mean the magic glass?", azul was skeptical
"Its magic fire", Kailm could hear the shrug in your voice.
Kalim is ashamed to admit it. But he wasn't much help after this. Jamils vpice had random breaks from the distortion. So he had a perfect audio of jamil screaming his vocal cords raw in his actual voice. Something that would haunt him until the day he died.
Ink was still pouring out from his wounds. Bones were still breaking. And it almost looked like Jamils body was melting off of him in a grotesque manner.
Kalim closed his eyes and prayed.
Eventual, the distortion completely went away, so the screams and the sobs seemed less monstrous and more tortured. Jamils attacks completely stopped as well.
And with one final bang, so did yours.
When Kalim opened his eyes again, I was only after jade prayed his hands off his ears, something he doesn't even remember doing.
Azul and yuu were standing over jamils blood covered body, and for a second, he feared the worst.
It was only after you kneeled to check if he was still alive, and he saw Jamil moving did he allow himself to breathe, and to finally cry.
Through blurred vision, he saw you put the gun away. He never asked what it was. He didn't need to know. You saved Jamils life with it, and that was good enough for him.
Rook:
Rook enjoyed beanfeast. Honestly, he could say it was one of his favorite days of the year. What other time? What other opportunities would he get but this? To hunt his fellow classmates for sport like this? To see their determination wither away as they accepted their fates as his prey!
Now, normally rook would go solo on this. Others found it a bit hard to keep up with him until now. Until yuu.
Ah his dear little trickster and his admirable kill or be killed mentality that he had taken up as of late! My, when rook had looked into his eyes, he saw nothing less than the eyes of a killer! A tiger on the hunt!
Or perhaps, he mused, a lion. Because there, right underneath them, was leona kingscholar himself.
Yuu has proposed they move from above, to stay in the wooded area and maintain the high grounds. Yuu had made his way up a tree with the swiftness and elegance of a bird taking flight! Walking steadily along the branches like he was simply made for it.
Together, the two of you had taken out quite a few farmers. With rook silently stalking them and you communicating your predictions with hand signals that he could understand blind. Those predictions of what the farmers would do, or even who would be in the area were proven true to an uncanny extent.
Rook wanted to know how, but that conversation could be saved for a different day.
Rook could barely see you chest rising up and down as you breathed so slowly you might as well haven't have been. He himself was holding his breath as you both angled your bean blasters. The slightest noise could tip the beastman off, after all.
You had temporarily split off to different trees, him being about a dozen meters away from you, just to the left of Leona, while we're were to the right.
He saw you hand slowly raise up, carefully avoiding the rustling leaves as you gave another hand signal. Thos one being significantly more simple than the majority. Just three fingers raised to indicate three seconds. Three seconds and you both shoot. You closed you hand, starting the timer.
Three.
The two of you, perfectly in sync, found your final aims of the beastman.
Two.
You carefully placed your fingers on the trigger. Taking caution not to shoot too early. The last thing would want to do was ruin this seemingly special moment for the two of you.
The wind blew in you direction. Thre leaves began to rustle, and leonas head shot in your direction.
Three.
You both pulled your triggered in perfect harmony, and, like a beautiful dance coming to an end, the mighty lion had fallen. And you both ran across the tree branches, making your ways to eachother as soon as possible.
The happy, adrenaline filled giggle you let out when he finally found found you again was nothing less than precious. Not to mention it fit the moment. Oh how he wishes you would stop trying to compose yourself all the time! The world deserves to see your joy!
He let out a laugh of his own, being rewarded with a smile that you couldn't help. This imagine of you in perfect juxtaposition with how you looked upon first arrival to this world.
And, if he may, rook would like to say that your face was shaping up to be something he wouldn't mind staring at. Ah, recovery was a marvelous thing indeed! He couldn't wait to see your progress by the end if the year.
When the laughter subsided, you took you hand and laid a gentle kiss to the back of your fingers, as a small congregation and a job well done.
"Yes, very nice monsieur. That was very nice indeed", his soft voice suddenly taking on a more mischievous note to it, a not that you matched with those shinning eyes of yours. "Now, I belive we have more game to secure, yes? Let us be off, my dear trickster"
You smiled, the corners of your mouth moving into a smirk. Your eyes, however, he'll the glee of a giddy boy, finally getting to experience something he was robbed of long ago. Rook only hoped that much later in your life, when you think of how many shots you've ever fired, this day will be included.
So smile, dear trickster, that all he asks. That's all you deserve.
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YALL I AM SO SORRY."I'm working on requests" fucks off your 5 more months omg what am I on. Eat your food, yall gotta be starving rn shit I am a terrible father.
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